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Lyric Places Poems | Lyric Poems About Places

These Lyric Places poems are examples of Lyric poems about Places. These are the best examples of Lyric Places poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek

Details | Lyric | |

Little Coffee House

Little Coffee House 

It’s the coffee counter line-up
A conveyor belt of people 
Ready for their little treat
A little piece of comfort
From their favorite beanery
I strum as I watch them 
My guitar like an old friend
They should say hello to -
But they never do 
   
Little Coffee House
My band’s playing for you
But what do you do
You just want want want your cups
Your little coffee mugs
So move up to the front

Funky-spiked hair dude
Jokes with the worker
He leans on the counter
(I think that he likes her) 
But people are waiting
And he’s hesitating
So all the shoe tappers  
Start to harass him -
Hurry up and pick one fast

Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just need need need your cups
Your little coffee mugs
And that little coffee buzz  

I look around the room
There’s a girl in a red shirt 
Looking out of the window 
She sips on a latte -
I think she’s an artist
She lays out her sketchbook
But she doesn’t start to draw 
She turns to face the wall –
What are we doing wrong?

We don’t have to be inspiration
But how ‘bout entertainment?
Are we a distraction?
I can’t help but asking 
Are we an invasion 
Of the air?

Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just sip sip sip your cups
Your little coffee mugs
Not listening to us

There’s a man on a laptop
There’s a girl reading Sherlock
There’s a guy on a cell phone
A boy eating Jell-O 
I want them to look up
If they’d look up they’d see us
Are we so bad we should shut up?
Because I feel like we just suck -
I feel like we’re not even here
We’re jamming 
To inattentive ears 

Oh Little Coffee House
I feel I’m at a loss
We’re playing here for you
But what do you do
Your busy coffee mouths
Keep sippin’ till it’s out
If only you’d listen
You’d hear what you’re missin’
We’re not
Just another gig 
Someday, we’ll make it BIG

Sip sip sippin’ cups
Those little coffee mugs
Sip ‘em till they’re out
Little Coffee House


Copyright © Black Eyed Susan

Details | Lyric | |

RAMBLINGS INSIDE A DOOR



Somehow in the late of nighttime, a wooden door's front lantern brings me to a table where strangers from a distant tavern grow more animated with a litany of stories and ramblings inscribed on their life’s hinges. Varied tones reminisce detailed inlays of personal anthologies framing their eyes with joy or regret, etched by languid memories as I listen to orations of wise men and laborers where intimacies are safe inside a door... each one relating a brew of sentiments over mugs of ale and wine. Just then, I hear my own man’s language reflected through the crowd’s noises, piercing my flesh with a tinge of awareness... while opening the doorknob, I begin to search for him under a vault of moonbeam, reminded now of the times I forget to understand his longing to connect with me ,to embrace his thoughts deeply in silence...without question or restraint. --------- 6/21/2015 rob carmack's Screwed V Theme: door

Copyright © nette onclaud

Details | Rhyme | |

Rehab

So much I wanted to say. So much I wanted to shout.
It was like being trapped behind bars without a way
to get out.
My mind going wild with all these questions of why.
The only way to escape was to fall asleep or to cry.
What did I do so bad that made me have to pay?
My friends, my dreams, and my life was swepped away.
I know I can do it! I try and I try.
Nothing seems to get better. I sometimes wish
I would Die.
Starved for attention. I wanna talk to the world.
I just miss being loved. Miss the warmth of a girl.
Snickers and stairs is what my life has become.
I'm treated like I'm a kid, like I'm sick, or I'm dumb.
One day to the next. Life becomes work just to be alive.
I thank god for my blessings. I thank god I survived.
I finally see some improvement. More hope tickles
my brain.
It was worth all the time, all the tears, all the pain.
I awake with a smile and new hope to move on.
I did it! I did it! All those hard times are gone!

Copyright © Travis Flasnick

Details | Lyric | |

Feelin' Soupy

Read poems, but don’t go slow.
Too many poets here to know!
Just click that mouse around this site.
Makin’ new friends and feelin’ Soupy.
Do be, Do be, Do be, Do be. .. . Feelin’ Soupy.

Hey there, bloggers,
What cha’ sayin’?
Can I find PD here playin?
Who’s got something cool for me?
Do be Do be
Feelin’ Soupy.

I’ve got contests to try,
Winner circles to see.
I’m frazzled but dazzled by great poetry.
Let the late night keep casting its moon beams on me.
I’m so loopy
Feelin’ Soupy!


By Andrea Dietrich/ Inspired by the meter, lyrics and tune of “Feelin Groovy”
(which was sung by the awesome “Simon & Garfunkel”) and also of course,
inspired by my love of Poetry Soup!!!


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Lyric | |

Voices

They are all in my head, all day and all night
I hear them talking, telling me something's not right
They come from all directions, my ears never rest
recalling words from the ones I thought I knew best

My family my friends, those closet to me, telling
me things I refuse to see.
They've been buried within so long and so deep
like angry little children refusing to sleep

Some yell loudly, some whisper soft
they speak of the times and the dreams that were lost
and all these times I've refuse to hear, from people
and places I held so dear.

I've been so let down, my pride has been shattered
My heart has been broken, as if I didn't matter
It's a harsh lesson these voices within
makes me realize I've only one true friend
Thank you lord for opening my eyes, to people
that hurt me and tell me lies.
God's comfort and love will pull me through
from all the bad things these voices do.

Copyright © Betty Culberson

Details | Ballad | |

Tropical Obsession

I've got a tropical obsession
I think I'm losing my mind
I want to see my work day done
Go out and have some fun
And leave the city life behind.

I love the roar of the ocean
The smell of tanning lotion
A secluded beach somewhere
There are coconuts in the trees
With a warm and gentle breeze
And a flower in your hair.

I've got a tropical obsession
It's driving me up a wall
I want the palm trees and the shore
Blue skies and so much more
Oh God! I want it all

There's an island in the sea
I can hear it calling me
Saying come on home today
I'll bring my old beach chair
Plant it in the sand somewhere
And that's where I'm going to stay

I've got a tropical obsession
And I just can't set it free
On an island remote
In a little fishing boat
Is where I want to be.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr.

Details | Lyric | |

The laughing moon

It's here now under a converted sky
Where daylight has loss it’s might
Hours before the green hills had sight, with 
splattered  hints of yellow wild flowers so bright
Now time has casts a different light
  
It here now where the heavens sings an evening song 
With twinkled lights on a moon lit prong
Dancing stars and dreaming of mars 
Its here on this transformed spot 
I will sit and jot

It is here now as I lay back on this cool grass, and write a story 
with the heavens the color of quarry
Of jeweled eyes in the skies 
that connected to stories, some disguised 
With silver spoons and astrological loons
 
On dream away, dream on by
to the earths motions and lullabies
It is here now time to take a brake
from life’s work ,and worries and heart ache 
Try it yourself remember when, you were a child
when you looked up the night and smiled amen
   

 
 
                                       

Copyright © Laura Mckenzie

Details | I do not know? | |

Sidewalk Stepper

The power lines stretch across the sky
moonlight makes a shadowed place uninviting
as a blinking street light
has trouble making up it's mind
what's a daydream called if it's late at night
apart but we're currently immersed in
the atmosphere of a city breathing it's vibe
I'll meet you there 
if you'll remember the same place the same time
and looking above us
the power lines
stretch across the sky

Copyright © kristopher kern

Details | Lyric | |

Celebration on the Bay

I sat in a porch rocker and looked
Watching star bursts of wonder
Sparks with flair in the evening sky
Streams of light moving in splendor
So beautiful one must say, “oh my!”

I sat in a porch rocker and looked
As the grand orchestra played away
Sweet melody makes me give a sigh
Music and light blending a display
Horns and trumpets blasting high

I sat in a porch rocker and looked
Watching fireworks over the bay
Music rocking with soft thunder
Such a sight for ending a fine day
A celebration without a blunder

I sat in a porch rocker and looked!

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr

Details | Cowboy | |

New Mexico

     The first time that you see her, She will steal your soul away,
And replace it with a being of her own,
Her white sands will glisten, underneath turquoise skies,
And make your heart always long, for New Mexico.

     There is magic in her mountains, secrets in her sage,
A special kind of wisdom, that only comes with age.
The music of her canyons, will echo and roll,
And fill your life with desire, for New Mexico.

     She'll captivate your spirit, keep it in possession there,
No matter where you are, you smell cedar in the air.
The song she sings you, comes from long ago,
And haunts you with a passion, for New Mexico.

     You understand the stillness, of a desert afternoon,
You're enchanted by the beauty, of yucca in bloom,
While you wonder at the colors, transformed by the sun's glow,
Your thoughts are of being, in New Mexico.

     Voices of the past, warriors and pioneers,
Urge you with their stories, of laughter and tears.
An unsettled feeling, is all you have to show,
As you roam familiar trails, back to New Mexico.

     Some will call her savage, some will call her wild,
In ever fleeting shadows, she remains but a child.
This boldness of character is restless and untamed,
Gentled only by The Power, that takes on many names.

     You'll hear her in the night sometimes, when Westward breezes blow,
And to fill that empty feeling, you know you have to go,
For once you hold her in your eyes, nothing else can make you whole,
And you're never really home again, until you're in New Mexico.

Copyright © Debra Coppinger Hill

Details | Lyric | |

Day after Day

There’s places and faces where I’ve never been
some of them laughing and living in sin
Some of them hurting from being alone
And the places seem part of my own
The rhythm is flinging these words in my head
Against walls that refuse to be bled
Riding on nightmares through darkness and blight
Then lazily cruising in dreams
In this odessic searching
For reason for being
Nothing’s as bad as it seems
But on turning away
In my off handed way
I’m so tempted to say
Another could view it as fey






Another attempt at explaining my motives for living and writing about it

Copyright © Donald Meikle

Details | Ballad | |

MY WISHES ARE SMALL IN SIZE

Snowflakes don't make me forget 
the lovely places where we lay...
everything that's being covered by
the cold and fluffy snow;
there are many precious things that
won't ever be buried below!

My wishes are small in size,
but big in their meaning...
like the eternal images
of a past Christmas' memory:
laughing and caroling...while 
strolling down the festive streets
of a city that never stops to greet:
the stranger,the dreamer and the seeker!
My wishes are small in size...
that even imagination can't summarize!

Folks are so busy going to 
and from...rushing through the drifting snow,
making sure everyone is on their list;
we are in a different kind of spirit...
the one that lasts through
this merry and thoughtful season of awe:
making wishes that have
true delights and more!  
 

My wishes are small in size,
but big in their meaning;
as the snow slowly falls, I fantasize...
a Christmas' dream is beginning!

Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Copyright © Green Trees

Details | Lyric | |

Women's Traditional Dance—Oneida Nation

The sun receded quietly on a relaxing siesta, as 
Calm clouds of the mid-afternoon smiled henced,
The beat of the drums provideth dancing rhythm
As she moved in pure elegance with harmony, to
A style of danced buoyantly bouncing in melody.

Crafted beadworks accented her warmth charm,
Under her delicately brown-jeweled moccasins
The grass provideth such a natural cushion,
As Angular unique flexings of her gentle knees
Resonated like an eagle’s stealthy landing

Quietly in its nests with an eye on a nice prize.
She tingled as the sound of bells jingled
Sending pure melodic rhythm to ears—many!
Whilst she turned in an elegantly slow motion
Fringes from her shawl swayed air of warmth.

The balls of her feet moved in slight degrees as
Her heels touched Mother Earth softly in harmony,
She smiled as the judges watched intently. Like
A graceful dove she floated with precision—uniquely!
Her buckskin regalia trimmings—so singed softly!

As she danced in the sunset evening's twilight;
She created an energetic circle of life’s fire
Yet, never raised her ceremonial feathered fan,
Whilst in clear focus emerged from the dance
Regal styles of proud cultural Native heritage 

A contrastingly exquisite fine female figure 
Arousing sights in the soft evening’s twilight,
Dispelling the uncertainly to even look twice,
Elegantly noble and much marvelously nice:
She was naturally—First Woman!

~~~~~~~~~**********~~*~~~~~~~~~

Written During Oneida Nation Annual 2010
Independence Weekend Pow-wow Celebration
Host Drummers – Bear Creek
Oneida, Wisconsin, Bordering Green Bay

~~~~~~~~~**~~*********~~~~~~~~~

Won Honorable Mentioned Prize
Images Contest
Sponsored by Frank Herrera
7/15/10

~~~~~~~~~**~~*********~~~~~~~~~

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr

Details | Couplet | |

A Different Verse

A different time, a different place
A different life and different face

Different wants and different needs
Different values and different creeds

Different Pomp and Circumstance
Different songs and different dance

Different likes and different hate
Different foods on different plate

A different boat on a different sea
A different you and a different me

Copyright © James Burns

Details | Lyric | |

Awa' aff the river shore

Awa' oan the Firth of Forth, 
high oan the famous brig', 
a laboring lad toils tirelessly 
in the cauld and bitter wind.

Awa' aff the river shore, 
a braw lassie waits for him, 
scourin' and roastin' tatties 
in a bonny wee but and ben.

The carls would hae him drinkin',
The cummers would pay him 'ahind the door,
but he oany has wan thing oan his mind
and she's awa' aff the river shore.



*Translation*

Away on the Firth of Forth,
high on the famous bridge,
a laboring lad toils tirelessly
in the cold and bitter wind.

Away off the river shore,
a braw lassie waits for him,
scouring and roasting tatties
in a bonny wee but and ben.

The carls would have him drinking,
the cummers would pay him behind the door,
but he only has one thing on his mind
and she's away off the river shore.


Glossary of terms:

* the Firth of Forth is the estuary of the River Forth in Scotland
   braw means fine looking
   tatties are potatoes
   bonny means pretty or handsome
   a but and ben is a modest two room cottage consisting of a kitchen and a main room
   a carl is a laboring man
   a cummer is a woman of questionable moral character
   to pay behind the door is to engage in sexual activity as a form of 'payment' for favors, services, or goods.

Copyright © Thvia Stein

Details | Lyric | |

Country Boy, City Slicker On CD

Well, I moved into town to live like a city slicker,
Loaded my truck, found a place, and here I am,
Though a country boy has a head a bit thicker,
City life is not so hard to understand,

And I've been learnin' how to use a computor,
How to do some picture takin' with a cell phone,
How to get insurance for my truck and motor scooter,
But city life is nothing like back home,

Because where I come from, they call it the boonies,
Dirt roads, back woods, life as country as can be,
Though now I'm mixed in with all the town loonies,
They'll never take the country out of me,

Yea, I can still plant me a nice little garden,
Though not nearly as big as it use to be,
And still listen to country music, Dolly Parton,
She's on my coffee mug for all to see,

And I still get to do some dear huntin'
For those split tails runnin' 'round here,
And I make sure to keep my truck tuned and runnin'
By way of Auto Zone, or I'd run out of beer,

Yea, I livin' in the hood, straight from the boonies,
It's great be an American and free,
Though I'm mixed in good with all the town loonies,
They'll never take the country out of me,

Yea, I moved into town to live like a city slicker,
And I'm doin' the best that I can...
I can drive by Churchill Downs and hear the horses nicker,
I'm just a country boy with a city slicker plan,
I can drive by Churchill Downs and hear the horses nicker,
I'm still a country boy, yea, that's who I am,
Though a country boy has a head a bit thicker,
City life is not so hard to understand.

Copyright © Lawrence Ingle

Details | Lyric | |

My Feet

My Feet carry me where I need to go they don't take me to any place where my 
brain says no
even though they are doing the walking I realize they cannot think or do the talking
therefore if I walk into trouble I don't blame my feet
I don't need to complain if I didn't rely on my brain to keep me from walking into 
trouble and I have no one else to blame

Copyright © Cathy Holmes

Details | Lyric | |

A Pub-ng We Go

Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear… as merrily, off we go!

We’ll leave the frats, in the dust, and bring The Bun, merrily, along.
He had a great run, at Easter time, now he can let, the good times roll.
Who knows best, than a nest of Trolls, how to have, a really great time!
A Biker Bar should fill our sails, as we go, courting the best… of it all.

Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear…as merrily, off we go!

The beers great, the girls’ first rate, I’ll ride a full-blown Harley Hog.
To ride them down, across the town, my hair, flowing behind, in the air.
But first we’ll make a new drinking song, betting on, who’s best, by far.
Biker Dudes, Trolls enthused, raise their mugs in unity, again, once more!

Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear… as merrily, off we go!

It’s all fun, as with pool cues in hand, we try to, learn to play Eight Ball.
We’ll dance on the floor, and some on the bar, as rowdier we become.
But we’re the best, with glass in fist, as we sing our new… drinking song.
So don’t be glum! Here, come along, to laughter amid, such joyful fun.
 
Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear… as merrily, off we go!

We’ll have fun, then move along, as our song wins, and the tab is yours.
You can join, as comes, the next bar, and we’ll, start all over, once more!
It’s party time, until dawn, for Trolls can hold, great quantities of rum.
As drinking games come, we win every time, as the losers pay the bill.

Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those, Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear…as merrily, off we go!

(A drinking song for the pure fun it: sung like a pirate song clinking mugs.)

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Rhyme | |

On An Airplane (at 18,000 feet)

patches of green, shades of blue,
cotton clouds floating down below,
soaring like angels dressed in white,
silently drifting from such a height.

looking-glass mirror of the blue sea
to where someday I'm longing to be;
lonely mountains like giants they are,
rising and trying to reach a distant star.

where am I heading, where am I going?
when will a restless soul stop roaming?
ask the cold wind or ask the trees,
ask the birds that sing, ask the bees.

the lazy river flows along the way,
a twisting snake like a long highway,
never tired in its journey to the sea,
to the home where it dreams to be.

my home is your soft arms, my love,
your tender lips are all I want to have;
a lake of joy, like a rainbow you are,
I am the earth and you are the star.


Copyright © Wilfredo Derequito

Details | Free verse | |

A Simple Southern Christmas

It's gonna be a simple southern Christmas here.
All I want from Santa is some egg nog, bourbon and beer.
I'm gonna wait on Santa Christmas Eve night,
and when he's not lookin' I just might,
steal his reindeer.
It's gonna be a simple southern Christmas here.
I'm sending out my Christmas cheer.
I'm gonna sit on my front porch swing and sing.
It will be a good thing to hear those jingle bells ring.
I thought I seen Santa on the backwoods bayou road,
but instead it was a big fat toad.
It'a a wonderful simple southern Christmas here.
Santa just brought me some egg nog, bourbon, and beer.
When he wasn't lookin' I stole his reindeer.
So now I can deliver my Christmas cheer.
But hurry, hurry, I'm in a rush,
got to give that reindeer a little push.
Got to go, got to go,
got to get home to fix my gumbo.
It is Christmas day,
and I'm in  a rush I must say.
It's gonna be a simple southern Christmas here.
Just add egg nog, bourbon and beer.
Mix it up with some Christmas cheer.
I'm ready for Christmas every year.

Copyright © shannon farlouis

Details | Lyric | |

The Path Un-chosen

When squinting at departed days, Reviewing life’s crucial choices An insatiable curiosity stirs inside, O’er the destination of different paths, And where, I’d perhaps, have been guided. Is this questioning life’s portion? Where would I reside today; or would I? And to whom would I be married? Would progeny exist? Would radical change have been my lot? And days cut short? Or, in time’s throes, be frozen? All queries void of answers, Without my taking this alternate path, Left by myself un-chosen;

Copyright © Tom Wright

Details | Lyric | |

Going to the country

Going to the country

I’m going to the country
Lord I’ve had this city life
Going to pick up our possessions
I’m going to take my lady wife
Then I am leaving this old city
I’m going soon the time is rife

I love it in the country
How I love those giant trees
I love each thing about it
All its peace and harmony
Yes, I’m moving to the country
The only place I yearn to be

Oh lordy, lordy, lordy
How I love the country life
I want to sit there by the river
Away from all the city strife
Yes I’m going to the country
We’re going now, the time is rife

Find me a place beside the river
Then just throw me in a hole
Don’t worry about religion 
Let the lord reach to my soul
Let the creatures take this body
Then with the planet I’ll be whole.

18 2014 @ 1303hrs.






Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Shape | |

Ohio


                ___________   _________
               /ohio ohio ohio) (ohio ohio/
              !ohio ohio   ohio( ohio ohio/
             /ohio  ohio   ohio# ohio //
               !ohio ohio  ohio# ohio//
             /ohio   ohio ohio)  ohio/
            (ohio ohio  ohio ohio)   (
                    -ohio    ohio-

Copyright © Courtney Courtney

Details | Lyric | |

Chi town Blues

Stop what your doin , baby lets go ..stop what your doin ..baby lets go 
give me that ..stop what your doing .. give me that Chicago piano ......

Chicago pizza 
the Cubs 
The hot dogs 
Chicago love

Stop what your doing , baby lets go ...  Chicago Sax
Lets go baby .. Don't you wanna go to Chicago. going I'm going I'm going 

Chicago Oprah
a slice of Chicago style
Chicago Gangsters
O'Hara airport, Lake Michigan

 Lets take it real slow , baby take me to Chicago
I'm going I'm going,  we're going ,

Chicago Blues
Chicago traffic
Chicago Wax museum 
Chicago state of mind 


Stop what your doing ..baby lets go.. Stop right now, Chicago Guitar....Give me that guitar 

Take me baby slow to Chicago ...going , I'm going don't ya know 
I'm going , I'm going,  going to Chicago..

R. Kelley Chicago, trapped in the closet new and old
Old Chicago ,new Chicago
The Chicago I know, baby lets go
Chicago we should go ..stop what your doing and take me down , down,  down 

take it real slow , going to Chicago .

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Narrative | |

Summer Waterfall

Deep in the woods I hear an angel's lyrical call.
Tranquil and serene, a majestic summer waterfall.
Where the oaks and wildflowers shade the creek,
reflections fall to earth from rays of destiny,
refreshing my soul and setting my spirit free.
I smell the aroma of rain mixed with the paradise breeze.
Tranquil and serene, a natural wonder and rainbow of peace.
A cascading sparkling jewel,
above a wave rippling whirlpool.
Upon the wind rides the angel's lyrical call.
Tranquil and serene, a majestic summer waterfall.

Copyright © shannon farlouis

Details | I do not know? | |

Senorita Sorrow ( Spanish Rain )

Any teardrops that I can borrow?
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
 
Senorita Sorrow
Can you run away with me tomorrow?
We can chase our dreams around
And make love
And start wars
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
You have never lived
It's very hard to explain
I got lost in Senorita Sorrow
somewhere in San Sebastian, Spain
somewhere in her Spanish eyes
somewhere in the Spanish rain
 
We had the time of our lives
But she cried there on the train
She couldn't hold back the pain
She knew there was no tomorrow
My Sweet Senorita Sorrow
As she stepped out into the 
Mid-September Spanish Rain




Copyright © ron ryan

Details | Rhyme | |

Will You Travel With Me To Heaven PART THREE

Imagine a king who has many
Servants staying at his palace
It would make no sense at all if those
Servants do not fulfill their purpose


Those servants were ordered to work
And to respect that king at all times
While the king gives them a place to stay
They should always make his palace shine


Any slave who does not work may
Eventually be kicked out soon
Any slave who works improperly
May likewise end up without a room


That king has a right to command
His slaves to sing lovely songs of him
To choose the number of times to wash
A staircase, because he is 'king'


That king has a right to command his
Slaves to do well to his family
To treat his close friends with respect
And welcome his guests cheerfully


To tell them not to touch this and that
To disallow them from certain rooms
To do what he commands them to do
As he is the owner who rules


So when Allah gives a command
A command that must be obeyed
You must obey Allah's Commandments
Or else you might get yourself astray


So if Allah commands you to pray
To Him, five prayers everyday
Don't ask 'why? ' Don't ask 'why five salahs? '
Just listen to God, and obey


God lets you walk on the earth He made
God gives you fresh air for you to breathe
God keeps the clouds above you floating
And gives you drink and food to eat


God gave you a brain with which to think
And still you ask 'why should you pray? '
We pray to Allah, the Mighty King
Who lets us live each night and day


When you're awake, when you're asleep
The air you breathe each night and day
What you inhale and what you exhale
Are some things from God which you don't pay


The ability to taste is a
Gift from God which many just ignore
Imagine if you could not taste the
Food you eat, eating would be a bore


You eat fruits and vegetables that God
Created, from plants that Allah made
You drink water which belongs to God
And yet you ask 'why must we pray? '

--->PART FOUR

Copyright © Mariam M.

Details | Lyric | |

Down In Memphis

This poem came about by a discussion at work describing a memphis burger and a classic one. I told someone they flowed together and they didn't believe me so I wrote this:

I went down to memphis
There was this, classic chick
With them hips, and red lipstick
A kiss so delicious that
I promised to this miss I would not dissapear
But I was dishonest, I thought I made it clear
That this situation between the two of us
Was not serious But she was delrious
Became so furious that
That month she had two periods
It only takes one to end my sentence
25 to life, Im not doin the time on that sentence
Doesn't matter if she gets me presents
Don't care if she gets madder that I am not present, 
yet she gets sadder cause she still feels my presence
It wont be pleasant, if she doesnt let me leave peacefully
So I packed my things in the middle of the night
Took off asap so she couldn't pick a fight
Flew right back to my little house on the right
Split so fast like Kim Kardash was my wife
Realized that I just dodged a couple of knifes
It seems whack, But I just had to run and hide
This commital thing isnt for me
I am brittle, I crack too easily
Got to be careful cause I need Room to wiggle cant be
Strangled or tied down, I know It'll come back around
Hurt triple the times when karma
Shoots me down from the sky
So for right now, sayonara, beddy bye
Nice to know ya, good night

Copyright © Mike Conway