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Never under any circumstances take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night.

quote by Dave Barry
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Healthy Back Bag

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Song of Wink Star

The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages
story and text © Raj Arumugam, June 2008

☼ ☼

☼ Preamble

Come…children all, children of all ages…sit close and listen…
Come and listen to this happy story of the stars and of life…
Come children of the universe, children of all nations and of all races, and of all climates and of all kinds of space and dimensions and universes…
Come, dearest children of all beings of the living universe, come and listen to The Song of Wink Star…

Come and listen to this story, this happy story…listen, as the story itself sings to you…

Sit close then, and listen to the story that was not made by any, or written by a poet, or fashioned by grandfathers and grandmothers warming themselves at the fire of burning stars…

O dearest children all, come and listen to the story that lives
of itself, and that glows bright and happy….

Come…children all, children of all ages, come and listen to this happy story, the story so natural and smooth as life, as it sings itself to you….

☼ The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages

☼ 1

Night Child, always so light and gentle, slept on a flower.
And every night, before he went to sleep, he would look up at the sky.
He would look at the eastern corner, five o’clock.

And there he would see all the stars in near and distant galaxies that were only visible to the People of Star Eyes.

Night Child was one of the People of Star Eyes. And so he could see the stars. And of all the stars he could see, he loved to watch Wink Star.

Wink Star twinkled and winked and laughed.
Every night Wink Star did that. Winked and laughed.

[...] Read more

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Pill.........placebo Domingo

Give me a pill, and I'll say I'm okay

Give me a pill and I'll just go away

Give me a pill and I'll swing from the rafters

Give me a pill and I'll live 'happy ever after'

Give me a pill and I'll site you in my will

Give me a pill and I'll stop being 'ill'

Give me a pill and I'll trip the light fantastic

Give me a pill and i'll overdose on 'plastic'

Give me a pill and I'll lie through my back teeth

And say that you're 'fantastic'

Give me a pill and I'll give you some wine
Give me a pill and I'll say that I'm fine

But give me a placebo

And then i'll sing 'nessun dorma' like that FAT CAT

PLACIDO DOMINGO!

yvette ethel smith 4.8.09

poem by Yvette Smith
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Chill Pill

Everybody needs to take a chill pill
there's so much love to fill
everybody needs to take a chill pill
let these wounds heal
everybody needs to take a chill pill

Let it be your will
dry all this blood we spill
everybody needs to take a chill pill
find in your heart not to kill
everybody needs to take a chill pill

Think how the world would feel
everybody needs to take a chill pill
think of it as being real
everybody needs to take a chill pill
take your guns and kneel

You won't have to steal
while you watch your tire's peel
everybody needs to take a chill pill
nothing here is that big of a deal
if only it was so surreal
little bird on the windowsill
everybody needs to take a chill pill
(spiritwind-2009)

poem by Spiritwind Wood
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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Trash Bag

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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The Iliad: Book 10

Now the other princes of the Achaeans slept soundly the whole
night through, but Agamemnon son of Atreus was troubled, so that he
could get no rest. As when fair Juno's lord flashes his lightning in
token of great rain or hail or snow when the snow-flakes whiten the
ground, or again as a sign that he will open the wide jaws of hungry
war, even so did Agamemnon heave many a heavy sigh, for his soul
trembled within him. When he looked upon the plain of Troy he
marvelled at the many watchfires burning in front of Ilius, and at the
sound of pipes and flutes and of the hum of men, but when presently he
turned towards the ships and hosts of the Achaeans, he tore his hair
by handfuls before Jove on high, and groaned aloud for the very
disquietness of his soul. In the end he deemed it best to go at once
to Nestor son of Neleus, and see if between them they could find any
way of the Achaeans from destruction. He therefore rose, put on his
shirt, bound his sandals about his comely feet, flung the skin of a
huge tawny lion over his shoulders- a skin that reached his feet-
and took his spear in his hand.
Neither could Menelaus sleep, for he, too, boded ill for the Argives
who for his sake had sailed from far over the seas to fight the
Trojans. He covered his broad back with the skin of a spotted panther,
put a casque of bronze upon his head, and took his spear in his brawny
hand. Then he went to rouse his brother, who was by far the most
powerful of the Achaeans, and was honoured by the people as though
he were a god. He found him by the stern of his ship already putting
his goodly array about his shoulders, and right glad was he that his
brother had come.
Menelaus spoke first. "Why," said he, "my dear brother, are you thus
arming? Are you going to send any of our comrades to exploit the
Trojans? I greatly fear that no one will do you this service, and
spy upon the enemy alone in the dead of night. It will be a deed of
great daring."
And King Agamemnon answered, "Menelaus, we both of us need shrewd
counsel to save the Argives and our ships, for Jove has changed his
mind, and inclines towards Hector's sacrifices rather than ours. I
never saw nor heard tell of any man as having wrought such ruin in one
day as Hector has now wrought against the sons of the Achaeans- and
that too of his own unaided self, for he is son neither to god nor
goddess. The Argives will rue it long and deeply. Run, therefore, with
all speed by the line of the ships, and call Ajax and Idomeneus.
Meanwhile I will go to Nestor, and bid him rise and go about among the
companies of our sentinels to give them their instructions; they
will listen to him sooner than to any man, for his own son, and
Meriones brother in arms to Idomeneus, are captains over them. It
was to them more particularly that we gave this charge."
Menelaus replied, "How do I take your meaning? Am I to stay with
them and wait your coming, or shall I return here as soon as I have
given your orders?" "Wait," answered King Agamemnon, "for there are so
many paths about the camp that we might miss one another. Call every
man on your way, and bid him be stirring; name him by his lineage
and by his father's name, give each all titular observance, and

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Bitter Pill

And the label said take two for the pain
So now I medicate my brain
The conflict rubs against my grain
But I cannot flush this down the drain
We are so hopeless
We are so hopelessly in love
She breaks my will
Shes my bitter pill
Addicted to her
Cant fight off the chill
Shes blurs my world
Shes my bitter pill
We creep the night
Just to taste the thrill
Hopelessly in love
Shes the kind of love drives a man insane
She sticks her poison right in my vien
Spinning around
Over and upside down in love
She breaks my will
Shes my bitter pill
Addicted to her
Cant fight off the chill
Shes blurs my world
Shes my bitter pill
We creep the night
Just to taste the thrill
Hopelessly in love
She blurs my world
Shes my bitter pill
She breaks my will
Shes my bitter pill
We creep the night
Just to taste the thrill
Addicted to her
Shes my bitter pill

song performed by Motley Crue
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Im Not Sleeping

(feat. krayzie bone)
Wake up, wake up....
Turn on the water
Close the door
I wont let you tear me down
Just another moment
When the sound of your voice
Cuts me to the ground
Locked in here just to make
Myself feel better
Look in the mirror
And tell myself that Im okay
I know it doesnt matter
Whatever I do
Its always second best
I gotta free my mind
Exactly what you wanted
You opened me up
The secrets I confessed
Wake up, wake up
Im not here just to
Make you feel better
Stroke your ego
Live happy ever after
Im not sleeping
And I aint dreaming
And I aint fooled anymore
Im not sleeping
Just to wake up on the floor
Im not sleeping
Anymore
So many times
I wanted to go
But I just lost my way
Watching you unravelling
The last piece of thread
That held me into place
I dont care if you hear a word
Im saying
I can only hear
The voices screaming in my head
Im not sleeping
And I aint dreaming
And I aint fooled anymore
Im not sleeping
Just to wake up on the floor
Im not sleeping
I done beat your game
But Im not even sleeping no more, Im not even tired
And Im sick of dreaming pain

[...] Read more

song performed by Tiffany
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Leopard-skin Pill-box Hat

Well, I see you got your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Yes, I see you got your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Well, you must tell me, baby
How your head feels under somethin like that
Under your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Well, you look so pretty in it
Honey, can I jump on it sometime?
Yes, I just wanna see
If its really that expensive kind
You know it balances on your head
Just like a mattress balances
On a bottle of wine
Your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Well, if you wanna see the sun rise
Honey, I know where
Well go out and see it sometime
Well both just sit there and stare
Me with my belt
Wrapped around my head
And you just sittin there
In your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Well, I asked the doctor if I could see you
Its bad for your health, he said
Yes, I disobeyed his orders
I came to see you
But I found him there instead
You know, I dont mind him cheatin on me
But I sure wish hed take that off his head
Your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Well, I see you got a new boyfriend
You know, I never seen him before
Well, I saw him
Makin love to you
You forgot to close the garage door
You might think he loves you for your money
But I know what he really loves you for
Its your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat

song performed by Bob Dylan
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Dedication to medication part one

Ode to my little pink pill
You are my saviour,
And my ultimate downfall.
Like so many little pills
That came before you
The first gave me lisence
To act without consequence
Until a little beige pill
Was needed when you failed
After that while on sabbatical
I had some bigger white pills
With a pessary too
To undo the promiscuity.
Little yellow pill
Tucked up in my gum
You help me stomach myself
Little lozenge pill
You soothe the monsters
That live by my bed
Tiny blue speckled pill
You drench me in annonymity
Till little pink pill
The littlest pink pill
Sings her Seroquel lullaby
And sentences me to sleep.

poem by Vik Harley
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Night Bring Me My Lover

Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night, bring me my lover
Baby, night is sweet?
To each other thats the way we meet
I went all day for night to come
When I ? so easy
Do you want my lover, baby
Exchanging smiles and glances,
Just by to take my chances
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night, bring me my lover
Youre the living cruel
To satisfy each other, thats the loving truth
One day is all I want belong to ? baby
Thats the way I found you, lover?
Each other
Nights brought us one another
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
(Im so high) Im in love tonight
(so high) I think our love is so right
(so high) ? tomorrow-morrow
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover,
Night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)

[...] Read more

song performed by Gloria Estefan
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Attention please! Attention please!

'Attention please! Attention please!
Don't dare to talk! Don't dare to sneeze!
Don't doze or daydream! Stay awake!
Your health, your very life's at stake!
Ho–ho, you say, they can't mean me.
Ha–ha, we answer, wait and see.

Did any of you ever meet
A child called Goldie Pinklesweet?
Who on her seventh birthday went
To stay with Granny down in Kent.
At lunchtime on the second day
Of dearest little Goldie's stay,
Granny announced, 'I'm going down
To do some shopping in the town.'
(D'you know why Granny didn't tell
The child to come along as well?
She's going to the nearest inn
To buy herself a double gin.)

So out she creeps. She shuts the door.
And Goldie, after making sure
That she is really by herself,
Goes quickly to the medicine shelf,
And there, her little greedy eyes
See pills of every shape and size,
Such fascinating colours too ––
Some green, some pink, some brown, some blue.
'All right,' she says, 'let's try the brown,'
She takes one pill and gulps it down.
'Yum–yum!' she cries. 'Hooray! What fun!
They're chocolate–coated, every one!'
She gobbles five, she gobbles ten,
She stops her gobbling only when
The last pill's gone. There are no more.
Slowly she rises from the floor.
She stops. She hiccups. Dear, oh dear,
She starts to feel a trifle queer.

You see, how could young Goldie know,
For nobody had told her so,
That Grandmama, her old relation
Suffered from frightful constipation.
This meant that every night she'd give
Herself a powerful laxative,
And all the medicines that she'd bought
Were naturally of this sort.
The pink and red and blue and green
Were all extremely strong and mean.
But far more fierce and meaner still,

[...] Read more

poem by Roald Dahl
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A UFO of Night or Mind?

He focused on the waters. Above, an
Overhanging vista: layers of hues
Were blending in complexity,
Tuning in the sky's allure – the blues

Had darkened overhead, revealing
What he really sought - the minor streak
Could not have been a meteor.
An easy thrum had underlined a sleek

And ever-growing yellow core,
Pursued by dancing tails of teasing fire;
His hopeful eyes adapting, peering,
Smoothing out the contrast. A glorious choir

Trilled inside the power plant,
Harmonising in the pitch of black.
The trail of dazzling effluence had
Harkened him to bend, arch his back;

Give his disbelieving eyes a
Sense of concept, thus assimilate
The aviating UFO.
For many barren years he had to wait

For such a prize: a form unknown –
Unique to Man – for him to see it land
Atop the shore. The underside
Received a gentle nudge from running sand,

Frantic in the wavelets. He launched,
Lurching, surging down in salutation,
Bidding all an earthly welcome …
Overcome by his hallucination.

Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Adrienne Vittadini

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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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The City of Dreadful Night

Per me si va nella citta dolente.

--Dante

Poi di tanto adoprar, di tanti moti
D'ogni celeste, ogni terrena cosa,
Girando senza posa,
Per tornar sempre la donde son mosse;
Uso alcuno, alcun frutto
Indovinar non so.

Sola nel mondo eterna, a cui si volve
Ogni creata cosa,
In te, morte, si posa
Nostra ignuda natura;
Lieta no, ma sicura
Dell' antico dolor . . .
Pero ch' esser beato
Nega ai mortali e nega a' morti il fato.

--Leopardi

PROEM

Lo, thus, as prostrate, "In the dust I write
My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears."
Yet why evoke the spectres of black night
To blot the sunshine of exultant years?
Why disinter dead faith from mouldering hidden?
Why break the seals of mute despair unbidden,
And wail life's discords into careless ears?

Because a cold rage seizes one at whiles
To show the bitter old and wrinkled truth
Stripped naked of all vesture that beguiles,
False dreams, false hopes, false masks and modes of youth;
Because it gives some sense of power and passion
In helpless innocence to try to fashion
Our woe in living words howe'er uncouth.

Surely I write not for the hopeful young,
Or those who deem their happiness of worth,
Or such as pasture and grow fat among
The shows of life and feel nor doubt nor dearth,
Or pious spirits with a God above them
To sanctify and glorify and love them,
Or sages who foresee a heaven on earth.

For none of these I write, and none of these
Could read the writing if they deigned to try;

[...] Read more

poem by James Thomson
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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The Hill

Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom and Charley,
The weak of will, the strong of arm, the clown, the boozer, the fighter?
All, all, are sleeping on the hill.

One passed in a fever,
One was burned in a mine,
One was killed in a brawl,
One died in a jail,
One fell from a bridge toiling for children and wife—
All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill.

Where are Ella, Kate, Mag, Lizzie and Edith,
The tender heart, the simple soul, the loud, the proud, the happy one?—
All, all, are sleeping on the hill.

One died in shameful child-birth,
One of a thwarted love,
One at the hands of a brute in a brothel,
One of a broken pride, in the search for heart’s desire,
One after life in far-away London and Paris
Was brought to her little space by Ella and Kate and Mag—
All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill.

Where are Uncle Isaac and Aunt Emily,
And old Towny Kincaid and Sevigne Houghton,
And Major Walker who had talked
With venerable men of the revolution?—
All, all, are sleeping on the hill.

They brought them dead sons from the war,
And daughters whom life had crushed,
And their children fatherless, crying—
All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill.

Where is Old Fiddler Jones
Who played with life all his ninety years,
Braving the sleet with bared breast,
Drinking, rioting, thinking neither of wife nor kin,
Nor gold, nor love, nor heaven?
Lo! he babbles of the fish-frys of long ago,
Of the horse-races of long ago at Clary’s Grove,
Of what Abe Lincoln said
One time at Springfield.

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

The Sickness

he cannot imagine himself
now
swallowing from pill to pill
his stomach
becoming more like
a pharmaceutical
storage cabinet

there is a pill for his
numb arms
another pill for his
acidic stomach
more pills for him
to sleep
another pill for his
throat infection
another one for his
allergies
side effects of some
drugs that he had been
taking

this sickness into death
until one day
he refuses any pill
not that he cannot pay the bill
he is ready for
the thrill

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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