Quotes about hose, page 7
Apprehensive lovers…
One wore the trousers
And went about singing,
Fearful of leaving…
Without; first drinking…
One wore black hose
Miniskirts, barefooted:
Without; thinking or caring…
When out dancing and twirling…
Together they’d kiss or pitch battle
Pitch battle or again fall in love
They were like wings on either shoulder
There were times when I couldn’t fly…
Without one, and surely, without the other…
But; together we were like sisters
And brothers…
Together—we were happy village muckers.
Though they had all the difficulties
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poem by Mark Heathcote
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Things Shouldn't Be So Hard
A life should leave
deep tracks:
ruts where she
went out and back
to get the mail
or move the hose
around the yard;
where she used to
stand before the sink,
a worn-out place;
beneath her hand
the china knobs
rubbed down to
white pastilles;
the switch she
used to feel for
in the dark
almost erased.
Her things should
keep her marks.
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poem by Kay Ryan
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Anne Hathaway: On Her Famous Husband's Yearly Visit
You old baboon with pox red sores,
You mount me like your tavern whores,
Am I to swoon and faint with pleasure
That you've returned to ease your leisure;
You hayseed bumpkin, you thread bare fop,
You ride me like a saddled mop,
And squeeze me tightly round the throat
And besiege me with your belly bloat;
You dropp some coins upon the bed,
Am I a whore or a wife wed?
You complain I'm wrinkled, getting fat,
You scrawny toad whose ass doth flap;
With your garters and your silken hose,
I see the rats nibble at your toes;
We all must scamper, our Lord's returned,
May he be staked and public burned
poem by David McLansky
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Otherwise Bare!
a bicycle with a flat tire,
propped against a brick wall.
the old hose with a hole,
thrown to the side.
the old man in front of the tv,
from morning to night.
a dog collar by the ashtray,
a coffee pot grown cold.
a flashlight that doesnt work,
a pair of shoes that never fit.
books packed in a box,
at a three dollar yard sale.
the suit bought at goodwill,
waiting on the funeral.
the last pack of cigarettes,
an empty pack of matches.
love sleeping on couches,
a screwdriver with a broken bit.
a heart that smells of mothballs...
a block of cheese and a knife on a plate,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Some Summer
Blueberry skies and broccoli trees,
whipped cream clouds and
stripe-ed-dee bees,
Summer is here and it
tickles me pleased with it's
hazy, white daisy delights!
Kites on hot breezes,
and asphalt mirages,
the buzzing cicadas,
the sales in garages,
Summer is here and it's
time to switch gears into
slow glowing going sunlight!
Vanilla bean cream from
the ice tinkle truck,
the hot garden hose,
and mosquito smoke punks,
The furnace fast blast
makes me revel in past of these days
so some summery,
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poem by Sara Fielder
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On Mistress Nicely, a Pattern for Housekeepers
She was a woman peerless in her station,
With household virtues wedded to her name;
Spotless in linen, grass-bleached in her fame;
And pure and clear-starched in her conversation;
Thence in my Castle of Imagination
She dwells for evermore, the dainty dame,
To keep all airy draperies from shame
And all dream furnitures in preservation:
There walketh she with keys quite silver bright,
In perfect hose and shoes of seemly black,
Apron and stomacher of lily white,
And decent order follows in her track:
The burnished plate grows lustrous in her sight,
And polished floors and tables shine her back.
poem by Thomas Hood
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The Fairy Queen's Song
Oh, foolish fay,
Think you because
Man's brave array
My bosom thaws
I'd disobey
Our fairy laws?
Because I fly
In realms above,
In tendency
To fall in love
Resemble I
The amorous dove?
Oh, amorous dove!
Type of Ovidius Naso!
This heart of mine
Is soft as thine,
Although I dare not say so!
On fire that glows
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poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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On Wet Feet
on wet feet
from the spilled
water of a
broken hose
you begin
to write on
a theme
something that
makes you shiver
something which
you once remember
as something
chilling, the one
which freezes you
one dark night
because of fear
the one which
made you
tremble because
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Garden Wall
Bricks of the wall,
so much older than the house -
taken I think from a farm pulled down
when the street was built -
narrow bricks of another century.
Modestly, though laid with panels and parapets,
a wall behind the flowers -
roses and hollyhocks, the silver
pods of lupine, sweet-tasting
phlox, gray
lavender -
unnoticed -
but I discovered
the colors in the wall that woke
when spray from the hose
played on its pocks and warts -
a hazy red, a
grain gold, a mauve
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poem by Denise Levertov
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Sonnet-A new Dawn
Another Dawn is born, a new morrow!
The ground looks sodden from the night's good rain;
I see the dew-drops glisten on the bough;
The mighty Sun is on the rise again.
The ball of fire, dazzles such bright, white light,
The Moon, ghost-like, three-quarters-sized, remains!
It had been raining well all through the night;
This Sunday morn, empty are still the lanes.
The neighbour couple, hose-water the plants;
The leaves are verdant more than ev'r before,
The trunks of trees have busy, crawling Ants;
Some Birds are preening dry their feathers sore.
The Sun has gone high up into the Sky,
Its heat brings warmth to hearts as earth doth dry.
poem by John Celes
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