My neighbor has a circular driveway... he can't get out.
quote by Steven Wright
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Neighbor, Neighbor
Neighbor, neighbor, why you messin in my life?
Neighbor, neighbor, youve been talkin to my wife,
Tellin her you seen me
Runnin wild the other night,
Runnin wild the other night.
A neighbor, neighbor, theress always one in every crowd.
A neighbor, neighbor, tellin lies and talkin loud.
You better watch your step now.
You might fall off your cloud.
You might fall off your cloud.
Now I was walking down a dusty road
When along came a neighbor of mine.
He saw me walkin with my head hung down,
He just had to stop and pass the time.
Neighbor, neighbor, floatin in the salty brine.
Floatin in the salty brine.
song performed by ZZ Top
Added by Lucian Velea
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Silent Towers Wait
Only darkness.
Filtered through.
Veil upon seam veil.
Life sustaining veil.
Comprising increasingly.
Denser earthbound air.
Only darkness filtered through.
Till it seems intensely blue.
Until appears aerial illusion.
Heavenly threaded palette.
Painted through composite.
Strands upon stretching gulf.
Encompassing life web strand.
Embryonic space.
An earthly atmosphere.
A birth blue sky.
Rise through
multiflorous veils.
Find yourself
quintessentially
soul washed.
In mind blowing
soul encompassing
solar blackness.
Cold eternal
solar emptiness.
Then find
yourself
soulbound
earthbound
castdown.
In world below.
There’s no sky really. Where will
it begin? Where are ends?
Define it. Through striving effort see.
Through researched
study effort prove.
Perceived sky’s an illusion.
As is. Light deficient.
Midnight blue.
Malabar Hill
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Stories Of Hope Series #1 living in poverty-the trapper and family
Born high in the mountains of Tennessee
With no running water, or electricity.
Living in rags that her father found in the woods
Was her only salvation, her only goods.
They put her in pampers that they had found
Dirty and filthy and pulled from the ground.
A rock stove and firewood
They would eat when they could.
He did fishing and trapping just to survive.
The closest neighbor was twenty miles away
By the time he walked there he would have to stay.
The neighbor would take all that he trapped
In return give him food, clothing, ammunition and fat.
The neighbor then told him:
This is no way to raise a child.
You’ve been in the mountains quite a while.
Things have changed drastically
In school is where this child should be.
This child must learn how to read and write
What you’re doing to her, just isn’t right.
He packed up his knapsack and up the mountain he fled
Putting her with other children, was something he did dread.
He finally got home where his wife and child awaited
He looked at them and then hesitated.
With gleams in their eyes of the goodies he brought.
The child looked in the bag for a doll that she sought.
Not finding the doll in the bag, she turned and walked
From the room looking so sad
She went outside deep in the woods
her head hung down and there she stood.
The tears started to form in her eyes
And then she did cry.
Her father saw this and his heart broke in two
Now he knew what he had to do.
The following morning he went back down the mountain again
To speak to his neighbor, his only friend.
He asked his friend what should I do
My daughter is suffering and feeling blue.
I don’t have the money to buy her things, or send her to school
And living in the mountains is not the right tool.
He said: you are a natural born mountain man
And for you I do have a plan.
How would you like to teach others how to survive
And into your mountains they would climb.
You can teach them how to hunt and fish
This is on a city dwellers wish list.
You will get paid for what you love to do
And to your heart you will be true.
Looking at his family and the way they lived
An education for his child he had to give.
[...] Read more
poem by Louis Rams
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Differences
My neighbor lives on the hill,
And I in the valley dwell,
My neighbor must look down on me,
Must I look up?--ah, well,
My neighbor lives on the hill,
And I in the valley dwell.
My neighbor reads, and prays,
And I--I laugh, God wot,
And sing like a bird when the grass is green
In my small garden plot;
But ah, he reads and prays,
And I--I laugh, God wot.
His face is a book of woe,
And mine is a song of glee;
A slave he is to the great 'They say,'
But I--I am bold and free;
No wonder he smacks of woe,
And I have the tang of glee.
My neighbor thinks me a fool,
'The same to yourself,' say I;
'Why take your books and take your prayers,
Give me the open sky;'
My neighbor thinks me a fool,
'The same to yourself,' say I.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Rocket To Stardom
By kris kristofferson, roger mcguinn, bobby neuwirth
It started when the neighbors saw my fancy new t.v
That opens up the gate outside my home
And lets me let in anyone I really wanna see
And keep out all them other dudes I dont
Then one by one they started comin over to perform
And someone played temptation on kazoo
Nellie got as naked as the day that she was born
And it sure was all over baby blue
Chorus:
Ive got electric eyes, two big dogs, and a mine-field
And miles and miles and miles of barbed-wire fence
But the biggest show in town is in my driveway
And we aint had a good night sleepin since
Orville bakers showin us the fastest draw in town
Cora lees clackin on her spoons
Ol jesses trick dog sure does look dead lyin on the ground
And jesses wife is a-howlin at the moon
Charlys ugly daughter sure can tap dance
Mable thatchers walkin on her hands
And just as I was leavin for the kitchen for a snack
Ol lulla bell amazed us with her fans
Chorus:
Ive got electric eyes, two big dogs, and a mine-field
And miles and miles and miles of barbed-wire fence
But the biggest show in town is in my driveway
And we aint had a good night sleepin since
Froneys got an act thats hard to follow
Norman plays a nimble tamborine
You should see what sara lee can swallow
And ol billy does a wicked mr. clean
Good lord, if idve known this future when I started
Believe you me, Id never change a thing
I got a closed circuit circus in my bedroom
And a world full of whackos in the wings
Get em burt !
Chorus:
Ive got electric eyes, two big dogs, and a mine-field
And miles and miles and miles of barbed-wire fence
But the biggest show in town is in my driveway
And we aint had a good nights sleepin since
song performed by Kris Kristofferson
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A love for neighbor
Love the neighbor
that is great honor
he will be first to attend
All may reach last including friends
the neighbor and guests are best
they stand the time and test
open your secrets and confide
Neighbor will know even if you hide
it is wrong to assume
no grudges and feelings to fume
if you know him to be near
there won't be any fear
Love the neighbor so to be close to Thy
there has to be no question as why?
rule or no rule he is there to rescue
relatives and friends may have no clue
Love wins you whole world
the neighbor must be in our hold
he is there to watch and protect
from any of the harm or ill act
we generally harbor ill feelings
we don’t go closer or even willing
this is one of gratest drawback
it may put us on backtrack
It may not help us either
Even seasons act wise in weather
we are sensible human being
we should not stick to views or cling
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Secrets Of The Law Of God
Truly who
can know
interpret
secrets
hidden
within
the laws
of God?
How long
for how
many years
must one
study
to know
secrets
secrets of
the law?
There is no secret
read the ten commandments
read obey the laws
never forgetting
all sin
all fall short
of the glory of God.
Remove the rafter
of sin
within your own eye
before
you speak out
about
the splinter
of sin
within your
brothers
sisters
eyes.
N ever forgetting
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Cosinic Curve
Callithumpus Kevin Kerr was a young astronomer,
Rich and handsome, eligible, sound and single,
Somewhat absent as to mind, and peculiarly inclined
To allow his love quest and his work to mingle.
'Jupiter,' said he, 'and Mars, all fixed and unfixed stars
And their orbits mid the circular have tarried;
There is nothing straight nor square in the heavens anywhere
Which reminds me, I should think of getting married.'
Clementina Mumphin-Moore was a modern girl who wore
Slinky frocks, and her slimming concentrated.
Thus, her health was far from good; but Matilda Mabel Wood
Was circular in shape - cats said 'inflated.'
Both these girls, the thick and thin, were most interested in
Callithumpus Kevin Kerr, who so auterely
Walked with face turned to the sky; each one rolled a roguish eye
'With view above,' for each one loved him dearly.
Callithumpus Kerr one day went a-mumbling on his way,
And both maids watched him as he conned his table:
'Jupiter, the Moon and Mars, all the fixed and unfixed stars
Are circular in shape - why, hello, Mabel!'
Clementina, oh, so slim, was invisible to him.
But he gazed at Mabel as he thought of Saturn.
Then he said, quite suddenly, 'Mabel! Will you marry me?
For an astronomer you're just the pattern.'
Thro' a crevice in the floor Clementina Mumphin-Moore
Slipped; and no one ever heard of her thereafter.
Mabel wed her clever Kerr, and their home, so friends aver,
Is a place of curves and meals and happy laughter.
Girls! Be warned in time; because certain universal laws
Rule creation, and you may not monkey with 'em.
Mold yourselves upon old mars and the fixed and unfixed stars,
For slim and slinky girls 'ain't got no rhythm.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Thrilling! the dynamics of destiny.
Touched by the temporal clouds
Engrossed with Earth’s circular rhythm,
Thrilling! the dynamics of destiny.
Thrilling! The dynamics of destiny,
See black bodied dragons manifesting
Themselves on the horizon, waiting, nesting,
One bellows out a thunderous growl-
Summoning the rain.
Engrossed with Earth’s circular rhythm
The Sun departs- Moon tears a schism
For this is nightfall’s sweet revision,
She has waited long to show us-
When we listened, when we came.
Touched by the temporal clouds
Their future isn’t more than ours
They gather, part, and trickle down
Into the cradle of our Earth,
Where they wait to rise again.
Touched by the temporal clouds
Engrossed by Earth’s circular rhythm,
Thrilling! the dynamics of destiny-
Yours? Mine?
Seasons-
Actions-
Progress-
Time
poem by Lazarus Knix
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Dharma Talk # 2 (Cry For Help)
the growl in your stomach,
your neighbor's hunger.
the wet spot on your pillow,
your neighbor's tears.
the sharp pain in your heart,
your neighbor's eviction notice.
the sadness in your mirror...
your neighbor's cry for help!
WAKE UP!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Clothes Line
After a while we took in the clothes,
Nobody said very much.
Just some old wild shirts and a couple pairs of pants
Which nobody really wanted to touch.
Mama come in and picked up a book
An papa asked her what it was.
Someone else asked, what do you care?
Papa said, well, just because.
Then they started to take back their clothes,
Hang em on the line.
It was january the thirtieth
And everybody was feelin fine.
The next day everybody got up
Seein if the clothes were dry.
The dogs were barking, a neighbor passed,
Mama, of course, she said, hi!
Have you heard the news? he said, with a grin,
The vice-presidents gone mad!
Where? downtown. when? last night.
Hmm, say, thats too bad!
Well, theres nothin we can do about it, said the neighbor,
Its just somethin were gonna have to forget.
Yes, I guess so, said ma,
Then she asked me if the clothes was still wet.
I reached up, touched my shirt,
And the neighbor said, are those clothes yours?
I said, some of em, not all of em.
He said, ya always help out around here with the chores?
I said, sometime, not all the time.
Then my neighbor, he blew his nose
Just as papa yelled outside,
Mama wants you t come back in the house and bring them clothes.
Well, I just do what Im told,
So, I did it, of course.
I went back in the house and mama met me
And then I shut all the doors.
song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Be Careful Of Stones That You Throw
Recorded by hank williams, sr.
Written by bonnie dodd
Chorus
A [f] tongue can accuse and carry bad [c] news
The [f] seeds of distrust, it will [c] sow
But [f] unless youve made no mistakes in your [c] life
Be careful of [g7] stones that you [c] throw.
(spoken)
[c] a neighbor was passing my [f] garden one time
[c] she stopped and I knew right away [g7]
That it was gossip, not flowers, she had on her mind [c]
And this is what I heard my neighbor say:
[c] that girl down the street [f] should be run from our midst
[c] she drinks and she talks quite a lot [g7]
She knows not to speak to my child or to me. [c]
My neighbor then smiled and I thought:
Chorus
(spoken)
A car speeded by and the screamin of brakes
A sound that made my blood chill
For my neighbors one child had been pulled from the path
And saved by a girl lying still.
The child was unhurt and my neighbor cried out:
Oh! who was that brave girl so sweet?
I covered the crushed, broken body and said:
The bad girl who lived down the street.
Chorus
song performed by Hank Williams
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Havent You Heard
(j.buckley)
Your wish is my command!
Have you heard this talk about eye contact
Gonna be the downfall of this town.
First the photographs take you to the right hands.
Leads you to the authority mold.
Chorus:
Paranoia will write the world prayer
Make sure that you fit in the right holes
But when you take his offer, youre done for,
Done for, oh!
Phantoms in pockets, were in panic,
Making order in total disgust
Oh, they read a list of all who cannot stay
Take you down, on the ground.
(chorus)
Make sure you learn to beware your neighbor
Bolt the doors and hire your guards
Suck your life with their virus called language
Someone told you this all would go down.
And the last thing you see is the luster,
Hold the razor, goodbye to your friends
Would your underground please call the mayor,
Call the neighbor, call your friends.
(chorus)
Well, when he first saw you, youd need no protection
I train my eyes on your mouth, youll learn to take him.
Hmmm. its a brand new power.
My friends had her questions right
Beware your neighbor
Havent you heard, havent you heard
That were done for. oh.
Learn to beware your neighbor
And the right mode
Havent you heard?
Havent you heard,
That were done for, done for?
When I count down from ten
Youll feel the lead in your lids
Youll have no need to exist
And wake up refreshed
Hah!
song performed by Jeff Buckley
Added by Lucian Velea
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It Makes More Sense
It makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
It makes more sense,
To walk away than to be petty.
And it makes more sense,
To prevent a thumping headache.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Many fools love to do.
And it makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Fools love to do.
And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You and Your Neighbor
You are correct!
I will not get upset,
Over those things your neighbor
Has done to you.
Nor do I care about those things shared,
The two of you choose to do!
You and your neighbor,
Have been doing what you do for years.
That what has been done now escalates?
Is none of my business.
I've never been invited on your discreet escapades.
And today I could care less,
About this mess going on between you two.
You are correct!
I will not get upset,
Over those things your neighbor
Has done to you.
Nor do I care about those things shared,
The two of you choose to do!
Remember then when I made my comments?
And you said to me,
My comments made were making you about to vomit?
You should have purged then!
Not today!
When you're knee deep in the mess you are in!
You are correct!
I will not get upset,
Over those things your neighbor
Has done to you.
If anything,
I congratulate you both!
You have graduated from avoidable ignorance...
To flat out public scrutiny that is assessed as stupidity.
No!
I do not want a cup of coffee.
I prefer these days to walk in peace,
And alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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King Bee
Im a king bee buzzing around your hive
Now Im a king bee darling buzzing around your hive
Yeah, I can make some honey babe if you let me fly up inside
Cause Im young and able to buzz all night long
Im young and able mama, lord to buzz all night long
And you know together we can make some honey
Like the world aint never known
Cause Im asking king bee, wont you be my queen
Now Im a king bee rider, wont you be my queen
Because you know we can make some sweet little honey
Like the world aint never seen
Drive your car up in my driveway
Cut your bright lights way down low
Drive your car up in my driveway, mama
Cut your bright lights way down low
Im gonna wind up your transmission
Till your motor wont run no more
song performed by Grateful Dead
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shoveling Snow With Buddha
In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok
you would never see him doing such a thing,
tossing the dry snow over a mountain
of his bare, round shoulder,
his hair tied in a knot,
a model of concentration.
Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word
for what he does, or does not do.
Even the season is wrong for him.
In all his manifestations, is it not warm or slightly humid?
Is this not implied by his serene expression,
that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?
But here we are, working our way down the driveway,
one shovelful at a time.
We toss the light powder into the clear air.
We feel the cold mist on our faces.
And with every heave we disappear
and become lost to each other
in these sudden clouds of our own making,
these fountain-bursts of snow.
This is so much better than a sermon in church,
I say out loud, but Buddha keeps on shoveling.
This is the true religion, the religion of snow,
and sunlight and winter geese barking in the sky,
I say, but he is too busy to hear me.
He has thrown himself into shoveling snow
as if it were the purpose of existence,
as if the sign of a perfect life were a clear driveway
you could back the car down easily
and drive off into the vanities of the world
with a broken heater fan and a song on the radio.
All morning long we work side by side,
me with my commentary
and he inside his generous pocket of silence,
until the hour is nearly noon
and the snow is piled high all around us;
then, I hear him speak.
After this, he asks,
can we go inside and play cards?
Certainly, I reply, and I will heat some milk
and bring cups of hot chocolate to the table
while you shuffle the deck.
[...] Read more
poem by Billy Collins
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The Raspberries in My Driveway
Nature will bear the closest inspection . She invites us to lay our eyes level with her smallest leaf, and take an insect view of its plain.
-Thoreau
The raspberries
in my driveway
have always
been here
(for the whole eleven years
I have owned
but have not owned
this house),
yet
I have never
tasted them
before.
Always on a plane.
Always in the arms
of man, not God,
always too busy,
too fretful,
too worried
to see
that all along
my driveway
are red, red raspberries
for me to taste.
Shiny and red,
without hairs-
unlike the berries
from the market.
Little jewels-
I share them
with the birds!
On one perches
a tiny green insect.
I blow her off.
She flies!
I burst the raspberry
upon my tongue.
In my solitude
I commune
with raspberries,
with grasses,
with the world.
The world was always
[...] Read more
poem by Erica Jong
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It Took Me Light Years To Trust My Voice
It took me light years to trust my voice
to say things my thoughts had to catch up to
like the unrehearsed understudies of hidden harmonies
making their presence manifest in the way
their dark matter bent space and made the words move
into place like water finding its own equilibrium.
The discipline, then, was not to interfere,
but listen when the wind turns the Byzantine green
of the Russian olives silver in the turmoil of its passage.
To pour yourself out of the mirror like the tear
of a weeping telescope when the Milky Way
gets in your eyes like the smoke of a hundred billion stars.
Or the ghost of a summer radiance
summoned to a seance of mediumistic fireflies
trying to fill in the gaps on their spiritual starmaps.
Last night's full moon has sliced off
part of its waning earlobe shrinking
as it ascends from cantaloupe orange
to a pitted plum of cadmium yellow value eight.
I'm standing in a gravel driveway outside a storage shed
in the industrial part of town, my back turned
to a floodlight in a riot of insights that act like
frenzied insects, and I'm looking for stars
through the feathered ribs and scales of clouds,
toned by a copper moon rise in a cool acetylene sky.
The moon is rising over the roofs of a parking lot
full of transport trucks, and the contrast
makes the view even more surrealistically poignant.
Intensely so when I spot Arcturus burning
solely on its own in an immensity of peacock blue sky
turning Prussian blue and indigo
over a garishly lit garage that specializes in transmissions
and smells like an abattoir of oily orchids
sacrificed like sacred bulls in garlands
on the altar of a pneumatic car lift
where eternity intersects time as history.
Twenty feet from the driveway
to the perfectly latticed wire fence
sequestered on a reservation of useless land,
a pharmacopeia of every weed that grows wild
in southern Ontario, huddled on the crest
of a bull-dozed hill fort in self-defence.
And in one quick swathe of the bush-hog,
stunted runt versions of the same plants
blooming like symbols of underground resistance,
common mullein, tansy, Queen Ann's Lace, vetch,
viper's bugloss gone out like pilot lights on a gas stove,
[...] Read more
poem by Patrick White
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Christmas Lights
I hope I don't remember
that I was on the verge of tears when I wrote this
I hope I just remember
what I saw tonight
I drove by his house and I was so upset by it
I don't even believe it
there wasn't a stranger's car in the driveway
there wasn't anything that should have made me break down
just Christmas lights, shining bright, I wish someone had shielded my eyes
it reminded me how he moved on and I didn't, for so long
and if I've moved on, then why do I cry whenever I hear one of our songs?
why did the Christmas lights make me want to burn his house down?
because last Christmas I was in that house
I was laughing in that house
but this year when I pull into my driveway
no one's laughing
because no one's there
I'm starved for love
and it feels so good to say
now I've identified the problem
now I know it can't be solved
I think I finally discovered
why I hate Christmas lights.
poem by Jade Leven
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