Related quotes
Its purpose is lost.
An advertisement!
Therein is a gorgeous woman.
Her look is so stunning.
I am fully engrossed in it
Then I skip the page.
About what the advertisement was,
I didn’t care to notice.
The advertiser lost his purpose.
18.06.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The more facts you tell, the more you sell. An advertisement's chance for success invariably increases as the number of pertinent merchandise facts included in the advertisement increases.
quote by Charles Edwards
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song For Heroes
Captain O’Hare was a mariner brave;
He refused to abandon his ship;
A hero, he sleeps in a watery grave—
And his widow is now Mrs. Bipp,
Haw! Haw!
His widow is now Mrs. Bipp!
Henri Dupont was a fearless young ace;
Five thousand feet up he was hit;
Each year on his grave pretty flowers we place—
And his widow is now Mrs. Schmitt,
Haw! Haw!
His widow is now Mrs. Schmitt!
Corporal Dunn was a volunteer bold;
He plunged in the deadliest fray;
A bayonet thrust laid him out stony cold—
And his widow is now Mrs. Gray,
Haw! Haw!
His widow is now Mrs. Gray!
But Peter McGuck was a cowardly sneak,
Like a hound he remained home in fear;
When fishing one day he fell into the creek—
And his widow is now Mrs. Greer,
Haw! Haw! Haw!
Mrs. William O’Houlihan Greer!
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black Knight's Song
Knight And Wamba
There came three merry men from south, west, and north,
Ever more sing the roundelay;
To win the Widow of Wycombe forth,
And where was the widow might say them nay?
The first was a knight, and from Tynedale he came,
Ever more sing the roundelay;
And his fathers, God save us, were men of great faine,
And where was the widow might say him nay?
Of his father the laird, of his uncle the squire,
He boasted in rhyme and in roundelay;
She bade him go bask by his sea-coal fire,
For she was the widow would say him nay.
Wamba
The next that came forth, swore by blood and by nails,
Merrily sing the roundelay;
Hur's a gentleman, God wot, and hur's lineage was of Wales,
And where was the widow might say him nay?
Sir David ap Morgan ap Griffith ap Hugh
Ap Tudor ap Rhice, quoth his roundelay;
She said that one widow for so many was too few,
And she bade the Welshman wend his way.
But then next came a yeoman, a yeoman of Kent,
Jollily singing his roundelay;
He spoke to the widow of living and rent,
And where was the widow could say him nay?
Both
So the knight and the squire were both left in the mire,
There for to sing their roundelay;
For a yeoman of Kent, with his yearly rent,
There never was a widow could say him nay.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Widow
I just love my nightmares
I cant wait to sleep
Enjoying all my dreams
Got no regrets
I can be a flash of lightning
Striking down on rocks
Burning down the law
Getting things I never got
Turning the world
Nothing unheard
One night can be more than a day
Just like a black widow
Like a black widow
I cant stand the dreamers
Scared of things that fly
They just have sweet fantasies
And fade and die
Nightmares - are so good, so good
And they always end just when they should
Nightmares are cool, nightmares are cruel
I love the fun and the thrill
Just like a black widow
Like a black widow
Black widow
Just like a black widow
Here comes the morning
And who can deny
Leaving the dream is so hard
I love my nightmares
I await their return
And this time, Im dressed to kill, dressed to kill
Just like a black widow............
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Widow of Massacre
Some said she lost,
None said she crossed,
Nothing was known clear
Something about her was fear.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.
If asked, she never say,
because witness you can pay,
She lost hee husband,
Then lost her hand.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.
Behind her, there're stories,
Behind stories, there's worries,
Her village was ambushed,
And in bullets, washed.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.
She survived the claws of wild,
After death of her single child,
Finally she ran to this village,
Where we paid her homage.
Everything, though said
She's a widow of massacre.
poem by Buyunde Acura Sylivester
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poor Boy’s Christmas
Observe, my child, this pretty scene,
And note the air of pleasure keen
With which the widow’s orphan boy
Toots his tin horn, his only toy.
What need of costly gifts has he?
The widow has nowhere to flee.
And ample noise his horn emits
To drive the widow into fits.
MORAL:
The philosophic mind can see
The uses of adversity.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lucy's cleaning
Reference to the advertisement
The spinster, You're looking for a Robust
Who could perform household duties.
If I am not the right person
I could look after your Pekinese
And do the garden work.
Though I am fiftynine
Still capable of hardworking.
I include here my my last night's dream
That would be influenced to your selection.
The whole night I was cleaning the drops of blood
Lost by our Lord Jesus Christ on his way to Calvary.
When I woke up I saw your advertisement
And I thought that's a good omen!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A White Hen Sitting
A white hen sitting
On white eggs three:
Next, three speckled chickens
As plump as plump can be.
An owl, and a hawk,
And a bat come to see:
But chicks beneath their mother's wing
Squat safe as safe can be.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Ever Marry, I'll Marry A Maid
If ever I marry, I'll marry a maid;
To marry a widow, I am sore afraid:
For maids they are simple, and never will grutch,
But widows full oft, as they say, know too much.
A maid is so sweet, and so gentle of kind,
That a maid is the wife I will choose to my mind
A widow is froward, and never will yield;
Or if such there be, you will meet them but seeld.
A maid ne'er complaineth, do what so you will;
But what you mean well, a widow takes ill:
A widow will make you a drudge and a slave,
And, cost ne'er so much, she will ever go brave.
A maid is so modest, she seemeth a rose
When it first beginneth the bud to unclose;
But a widow full-blowen full often deceives,
And the next wind that bloweth shakes down all her leaves.
The widows be lovely, I never gainsay,
But too well all their beauty they know to display;
But a maid hath so great hidden beauty in store,
She can spare to a widow, yet never be poor.
Then, if ever I marry, give me a fresh maid,
If to marry with any I be not afraid;
But to marry with any, it asketh much care;
And some bachelors hold they are best as they are.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Revised
Wake up, put a frown on my face
'Cause I'm gonna take the trip down to that evil 'school' place
We're gonna work and never be done
'Cause kids just cannot have fun!
[Cannot have fun
Cannot have fun
Cannot have fun
Cannot have fun]
Make your day a work-filled one
'Cause kids just cannot have fun!
***Note: Some Canadians/Torontonians might know of the famous amusement park, Ontario Place, in Toronto, and have seen the television advertisement for it in the summers. This poem/song is based on the jingle in that advertisement, with 'revised' lyrics for typical workaholic students (including yours truly here) .***
poem by Poor Lil Copycat
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weeping Widow
(robert wright)
Published by belwin mills, ltd. - ascap
Weeping widow, dont you cry
Dressed in black, I dont know why
All the time that youve been waiting
You should feel like celebrating
Hell make you free as a bird in the sky
Free as a bird in the sky
Look out stranger, here comes danger
Dont let it look you in the eye, boy
You better take care, you know youve got to beware
Dont let it look you in the eye, boy, weeping widow
Weeping widow, spend your leisure
In you castle full of pleasure
When his spirit comes to haunt you
In your chamber, he will taunt you
Hell make you free as a bird in the sky
Free as a bird in the sky
Look out stranger, here comes danger
Dont let it look you in the eye, boy
You better take care, you know youve got to beware
Dont let it look you in the eye, boy, weeping widow
Weeping widow, dont you cry
Dressed in black, I dont know why
All the time that youve been waiting
You should feel like celebrating
Weeping widow, you gotta run
Weeping widow, you better see whats in store
Weeping widow, you better run
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A beautiful fun!
In a midnight,
I heard someone whispering,
sweet heart, come to me very close.
no, no, I won't do this.
O.K. I just go out!
Right now,
first, switch the light off.
Then room became dim-lighted.
I kept one of my eye on key-hole.
The scene was going heart-throbbing,
I couldn't keep watching too long.
O' shit!
I am a widow,
I have no right to pay attention,
towards the things of such type.
I have to live like a widow,
every desire, every wish,
is not for me.
I have to live without love.
I can't love any person.
because, I am a widow.
I have always to live
like a saint! like a nun!
What a beautiful fun! !
......................
poem by Sushil Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The 'Viduate Dame
'Tis the widow of Thomas Blythe,
And she goeth upon the spree,
And red are cheeks of the bystanders
For her acts are light and free.
In a seven-ounce costume
The widow of Thomas Blythe,
Y-perched high on the window ledge,
The difficult can-can tryeth.
Ten constables they essay
To bate the dame's halloing.
With the widow of Thomas Blythe
Their hands are overflowing,
And they cry: 'Call the National Guard
To quell this parlous muss-
For all of the widows of Thomas Blythe
Are upon the spree and us!'
O long shall the eerie tale be told
By that posse's surviving tithe;
And with tears bedewed he'll sing this rude
Ballad of the widow of Thomas Blythe.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black Widow
These words he speaks are true
We're all humanary stew if
We don't pledge allegiance to
The Black Widow
The horror that he brings
The horror of his sting
The unholiest of kings
The Black Widow
Our minds will be his toy
And every girl and boy will learn to be employed by
The Black Widow
Love him
Yes we love him
Love him
Yes we love him
He sits upon his throne and picks at all the bones of his
Husbands and his
Wives he's devoured He stares with a gleam
With a laugh so obscene at the virgins and the children
He's deflowered
Love him
Yes we love him
Love him
Yes we love him
Love me
Yes we love him
Our thoughts are hot and crazed
Our brains are webbed in haze
Of mindless senseless daze
The Black Widow
These words he speaks are true
We're all humanary stew
If we don't pledge allegiance to
The Black Widow
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyeing
Yo it all started later
With the punk alligator
And Hailey was staring at me like an underappreciater
Like i didn't give a **** about what i had
And knew nothin about rap or gettin mad
Until i met LP, 50 and everone else
Went to the tour and then found kelp
Playin at the football places
McNabb and people with braces
At the stadiums open crowds
Birds in the sky, destroyin the mounds
Hope we sell out, dont want no ****
I don't want to **** to get nuttin out of it
It Is The Eyeing Tour
This Is Where You Get More
This Is The Eyeing Tour
Don't Deny It Or Get Your Neck Sore
Yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** up!
Yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** up!
Went to the Encore
With J to the Z
Everyone staring and talkin **** about me
I don't want to **** when i have a fast buck
Don't tell me my tracks suck
Cuz you cant do better (so)
yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** up!
yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** up!
It Is The Eyeing Tour
This Is Where You Get More
This Is The Eyeing Tour
Don't Deny It Or Get Your Neck Sore
Here we start at the football place
Don't diss me or your the disgrace
Somtin wrong, somtin out of place
Hailey tells me that i've lost the race!
Am i too late?
Have i reached the gate?
Where i retire or die
I can't be late!
This won't be my last tour
But just to make sure
Come around or get yo neck sour
Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo!
yo, yo, yo,
Get you *** up!
yo, yo, yo,
Get you *** up!
yo, yo, yo,
Get you *** up!
yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** blump!
Get ready for the stump!
I don't want to go plump!
(plump, plump, plump)
Yo, Eyeing Tour
Do You Want More?
Yo, Eyeing Tour
Do You Want More?
Get yo ****** *** up!
song performed by by Eminem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musing over Latte.
Floptin sits outside
the cafe on the mall
and watches the three
plump dames sitting nearby
one slightly plumper
than the others
and as he stares
it reminds him
of his first lady
the one who showed him
the ropes of sexuality
who sucked away
his innocence one night
and he recalls
how liberated
he felt back then
how her plump flesh
flapped against him
and the sound was like
nothing he had heard before
and she said to him
sweet boy
you're a man now
you can tell your friends
you have made the grade
and now sitting at the cafe
on the mall
watching the plump dames
feeding her mouths
their chins moving
their eyes excited
their voices booming
and their laughter
sexual and loud
and looking at
the plumpest dame
how her hair
was pulled back
so and so
he smiles to himself
and wonders how
she'd make him feel
with her flesh flapping
and her eyes aglow.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is this an omen of a senile wind?
My beloved became an infant
And crying in the cot.
I was the cruel day care teacher
Who changes her diaper.
And the next door widow strums her monotonous harp
Marco's yelp woke me up.
*She grumbles in the morning why I called the widow's name several times.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sun Block
The plump lady
who occupied
with her behind
the front two seats
of the green bus
has passed away
and no one went
to her lonely
sad funeral
except a priest
and the lady
from the sweet shop
who sold Sally
the plump lady
dark chocolate
bars each morning
and cigarettes
and the old man
who lived next door
who used to peep
through net curtains
as she undressed
in the evenings
and others sit
where she once sat
and sunlight shines
into the bus
where she once sat
and others sense
the morning heat
that she blocked out
by sitting there
whom none talked to
but all would stare.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Young Widow
What will she do, the poor widow so young?
Her husband died by accident sudden!
The world will not keep quiet with its tongue;
It blamed the lady for the mishap then.
And now, a few years later, changed have things;
Nay, her agony always does remain;
Her daughter’s growing fast and problems brings;
Though now a doctor, life is sad again.
Society looks down upon a widow!
’Tis a male-dominated cruel world;
What treacherous plight for the lady, oh!
The world on widow-remarriage is cold.
How will she quench her sexual thirsts, O God?
Adulteress in life, she turned, O lord!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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