#raybradbury - Hello Poetry

Wood you marry me? I love you can't you see? I hope you will agree So please, please, please, Marry me... They say it's no good Because you're made of wood For me it's understood So please, please, please, Marry me... Ventriloquist's Wooden dummy You give me fits Please marry me! Please take my hand Together we can stand Our life will be so grand So please, please, please, Marry me... I'll have your back You by my side It's just like that Please be my bride! Life will be complete My mouth closed when you speak Our future bright not bleak So please, please, please, Marry me...

0

Nov 9, 2019

Nov 9, 2019 at 11:34 AM UTC

poetry2go

Beatles Tune for Dummies

Wood you marry me? I love you can't you see? I hope you will agree So please, please, please, Marry me... They say it's no good Because you're made of wood For me it's understood So please, please, please, Marry me... Ventriloquist's Wooden dummy You give me fits Please marry me! Please take my hand Together we can stand Our life will be so grand So please, please, please, Marry me... I'll have your back You by my side It's just like that Please be my bride! Life will be complete My mouth closed when you speak Our future bright not bleak So please, please, please, Marry me...

28

I walk along this street again Chatting up a lone fireman I tell the psychiatrist I'm just fine As I taste rainwater like wine And somehow it's a crime to go walking Somehow we're strange for talking I wish people would take me seriously Instead of reducing me to an unbalanced teen And maybe if they questioned just for a second They'd see why Poe and Dickens beckon So what if I hate school, screens, and parks? I have my thoughts, books, and walks in the dark

0

Oct 11, 2016

Oct 11, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC

breeze-mist

Clarisse

I walk along this street again Chatting up a lone fireman I tell the psychiatrist I'm just fine As I taste rainwater like wine And somehow it's a crime to go walking Somehow we're strange for talking I wish people would take me seriously Instead of reducing me to an unbalanced teen And maybe if they questioned just for a second They'd see why Poe and Dickens beckon So what if I hate school, screens, and parks? I have my thoughts, books, and walks in the dark

12

Autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavements in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding sidewalk, letting the motion of the wind and leaves carry her forward. Her shoes stirred the circling leaves. Her face slender and milk-white, and in it was a kind of gentle hunger that touched over everything with tireless curiosity. Pale surprise with dark eyes that were so fixed to the world that no move could escape. Her dress was white and it whispered.He almost thought he heard the motion of her hands. Eyes so dark and shiny and alive that he felt as if he had said something wonderful. They walked in the warm-cool blowing night on the silvered pavement and there was the faintest breath of fresh apricots and strawberries in the air. her face as bright as snow in the moonlight. "I like to smell things and look at things, and sometimes stay up all night, walking, and watching the sunrise." He saw himself in her eyes suspended in two shining drops of bright water, everything was there as if her eyes were two miraculous bit of violet amber that might capture and hold him in tact. Her face, fragile milk crystal with a soft constant light in it. It was not the hysterical light of electricity, but the strangely comfortable and gently flattering light of a candle. For how many people did you know who refracted you own light to you? People were often blazing away until they whiffed out. How rarely did other people's faces take of you and throw back to you your own expression, your innermost trembling thought? "Are you happy?"

0

Jul 3, 2014

Jul 3, 2014 at 11:40 AM UTC

dafne

violet amber

Autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavements in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding sidewalk, letting the motion of the wind and leaves carry her forward. Her shoes stirred the circling leaves. Her face slender and milk-white, and in it was a kind of gentle hunger that touched over everything with tireless curiosity. Pale surprise with dark eyes that were so fixed to the world that no move could escape. Her dress was white and it whispered.He almost thought he heard the motion of her hands. Eyes so dark and shiny and alive that he felt as if he had said something wonderful. They walked in the warm-cool blowing night on the silvered pavement and there was the faintest breath of fresh apricots and strawberries in the air. her face as bright as snow in the moonlight. "I like to smell things and look at things, and sometimes stay up all night, walking, and watching the sunrise." He saw himself in her eyes suspended in two shining drops of bright water, everything was there as if her eyes were two miraculous bit of violet amber that might capture and hold him in tact. Her face, fragile milk crystal with a soft constant light in it. It was not the hysterical light of electricity, but the strangely comfortable and gently flattering light of a candle. For how many people did you know who refracted you own light to you? People were often blazing away until they whiffed out. How rarely did other people's faces take of you and throw back to you your own expression, your innermost trembling thought? "Are you happy?"

9