Related quotes
Don’t be cheap
Buy not a thing because it’s cheap.
Don’t let others make you cheap.
To be greedy is to be cheap.
To be selfish is to be cheap.
To poke your nose is a cheap thing.
Don’t be cheap; better be poor.
23.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Men on t v ware lip stick
Men on t v ware lip stick
But when I do it they call me queer
Men in church ware long black dresses
But when I ware one they call me queer
Men on the football field slap each other
On the buttocks
But when I do it they call me queer.
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over Use
A quote goes cheap if over used.
A queen goes cheap if over seen.
A guest goes cheap if overstayed.
Otherwise also they’ll expire stale
(26.06.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cheap An Nasty
(coverdale/vandenberg)
Come on baby...
I get so confused,
But, my heart knows youre one of a kind
Leather an lace, an angels face,
Riding on a one track mind
Youre fully loaded with cruise control,
My four wheels rock with your back seat roll
Youre cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
I get so excited, babe, when Im invited
To ride in your limousine,
You drive it every day, burn it every night,
I wonder how you keep it so clean
Smooth accelerator, you get me so loose,
You keep your motor running till I run out of juice
Youre cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
Cheap an nasty
I never knew it could be this way
An I never thought Id ever complain,
But, gimme a second just to catch my breath
Babe, before you do it again
All the boys call your name
Down the wishing well,
Baby, when you go
Youre like a cat out of hell
Youre cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
Come on an do the dirty,
Come on an do the dirty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
Come on an do the dirty with me...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talk Is Cheap
(Van Morrison)
Kicked your gift-horse in the teeth
Crowd gathered round in the street
You killed your saviour new one can't be found
Talk is cheap your saviour's highway bound
You read the tabloids every day
They're giving lots of things away
They went to build you up
So they can bring you down
Talk is cheap it's gonna
Could make them a million pounds
Now baby don't put your business on the telephone
Tell your girlfriend just to leave me alone
Tell her to watch her mouth before she talks to anybody anybody
Oh 'cos talk is cheap it comes with the territory
Sometimes it's back-to-front sometimes it's upside down
Put your money where your mouth is when you come around
Backbiters and syndicators walking from chinatown
Oh talk is cheap why don't you lay your money down
Well they say you can't shut up a god damn fool
Ain't no exception to the rule
It's blah, blah, blah, blah
Just like a nursery rhyme
Talk is cheap almost all the time
Alright
Yes, talk is cheap
Almost all the time
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
If youre havin trouble with your high school head
Hes givin you the blues
You wanna graduate but not in is bed [...but not in his debt]
Heres what you gotta do -
Pick up the phone
Im always home
Call me any time
Just ring
36 24 36 hey [36 24 36 8]
I lead a life of crime
Dirty deeds done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds and theyre done dirt cheap
You got problems in your life of love
You got a broken heart
(shes) hes double dealin with your best friend
Thats when the teardrops start - fella
Pick up the phone
Im here alone
Or make a social call
Come right in
Forget about him
Well have ourselves a ball
Dirty deeds done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds and theyre done dirt cheap
If you got a lady and you want her gone
But you aint got the guts
She keeps naggin at you night and day
Enough to drive you nuts -
Pick up the phone
Leave her alone
Its time you made a stand
For a fee
Im happy to be
Your back door man
Dirty deeds done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds and theyre done dirt cheap
Concrete shoes, cyanide, tnt
Done dirt cheap
Neckties, contracts, high voltage
Done dirt cheap
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shouting' For A Camel
It was over at Coolgardie that a mining speculator,
Who was going down the township just to make a bit o' chink,
Went off to hire a camel from a camel propagator,
And the Afghan said he'd lend it if he'd stand the beast a drink.
Yes, the only price he asked him was to stand the beast a drink.
He was cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.
So the mining speculator made the bargain, proudly thinking
He had bested old Mahomet, he had done him in the eye.
Then he clambered on the camel, and the while the beast was drinking
He explained with satisfaction to the miners standing by
That 'twas cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.
But the camel kept on drinking and he filled his hold with water,
And the more he had inside him yet the more he seemed to need;
For he drank it by the gallon, and his girths grew taut and tauter,
And the miners muttered softly, 'Yes he's very dry indeed!
But he's cheap, very cheap, as dromedaries go.'
So he drank up twenty buckets, it was weird to watch him suck it,
(And the market price for water was per bucket half-a-crown)
Till the speculator stopped him, saying, 'Not another busket,
If I give him any more there'll be a famine in the town.
Take him back to old Mahomet, and I'll tramp it through the town.'
He was cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.
There's a moral to this story, in your hat you ought to paste it,
Be careful whom you shout for when a camel is about,
And there's plenty human camels who, before they'll see you waste it,
Will drink up all you pay for if you're fool enough to shout;
If you chance to strike a camel when you're fool enough to shout,
You'll be cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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“Shouting” for a Camel
It was over at Coolgardie that a mining speculator,
Who was going down the township just to make a bit o' chink,
Went off to hire a camel from a camel propagator,
And the Afghan said he'd lend it if he'd stand the beast a drink.
Yes, the only price he asked him was to stand the beast a drink.
He was cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.
So the mining speculator made the bargain, proudly thinking
He had bested old Mahomet, he had done him in the eye.
Then he clambered on the camel, and the while the beast was drinking
He explained with satisfaction to the miners standing by
That 'twas cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.
But the camel kept on drinking and he filled his hold with water,
And the more he had inside him yet the more he seemed to need;
For he drank it by the gallon, and his girths grew taut and tauter,
And the miners muttered softly, 'Yes he's very dry indeed!
But he's cheap, very cheap, as dromedaries go.'
So he drank up twenty buckets -- it was weird to watch him suck it,
(And the market price for water was per bucket half-a-crown)
Till the speculator stopped him, saying, 'Not another bucket --
If I give him any more there'll be a famine in the town.
Take him back to old Mahomet, and I'll tramp it through the town.'
He was cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.
There's a moral to this story -- in your hat you ought to paste it --
Be careful whom you shout for when a camel is about,
And there's plenty human camels who, before they'll see you waste it,
Will drink up all you pay for if you're fool enough to shout;
If you chance to strike a camel when you're fool enough to shout,
You'll be cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cheap To Print
Cheap to print and cheap to download!
But, try to reason up and think;
For, there is always the truth about everything.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smelling Cheap
she puts back the perfume
to the shelf and fumes: 'You are
already looking cheap dont let me
down by smelling cheap too.'
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I hate this fast growing tendency to chain men to machines in big factories and deprive them of all joy in their efforts - the plan will lead to cheap men and cheap products.
quote by Richard Wagner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love is cheap. You can buy it anywhere. Lives are cheap. It's money that's dear. You have to work days and sit up nights thinking how to make money.
quote by John Dos Passos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can't stand cheap people. It makes me real mad when someone says something like 'Hey, when are you going to pay me that hundred dollars you owe me' or 'Do you have that fifty dollars you borrowed' Man, quit being so cheap
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cargoes
Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.
Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.
poem by John Masefield (1902)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Choices!
Handmade Swiss watch may show the same time,
As the mass produced watches holding cheap chips,
But the former may run to last for generations,
The latter may collapse, but we will buy the next one.
Few people may have dollars to pay the Swiss artisans,
Many people have coins to support the cheap productions,
The pleasure of having something is invented and marketed,
When affordability is expanded, the satisfaction is unmatched.
When we can't afford the expensive, we can go for the cheap,
When we can't afford the original, we can go fo the generic,
When we can't afford a healthy life style, we can be sick,
When we can't afford a good leader, we can go for the tactful.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First Encounter - Chinese Porcelain Expert Christian Jorg
Christian jorg
our talk tinkling like
merry making porcelain ware
christian jorg
a talk tinkling like
fine porcelain ware
Christian Jorg
the porcelain man's best love
is tribal art
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Thing
Its safe in the city, to love in a doorway
To wrangle some screens from the door
And isnt it me, putting pain in a stranger?
Like a portrait in flesh, who trails on a leash
Will you see that Im scared and Im lonely?
So Ill break up my room, and yawn and i
Run to the centre of things
Where the knowing one says
Boys, boys, its a sweet thing
Boys, boys, its a sweet thing, sweet thing
If you want it, boys, get it here, thing
cause hope, boys, is a cheap thing, cheap thing
Im glad that youre older than me
Makes me feel important and free
Does that make you smile, isnt that me?
Im in your way, and Ill steal every moment
If his trade is a curse, then Ill bless you
And turn to the crossroads, and hamburgers, and
Boys, boys, its a sweet thing
Boys, boys, its a sweet thing, sweet thing
If you want it, boys, get it here, thing
cause hope, boys, is a cheap thing, cheap thing
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angela
If you like everything cheap,
You will die and be buried cheap as well!
For i am a citizen of the world and,
I came looking for you with my love.
Of the moral decadence among the youth and,
Of the rain of love on the other side;
Angela my love,
If there are no teachers there will be no students!
So try to lay the truth very bare for all to see.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Earthquake In London
For sothe this was a Lord to drede,
So sodeynly mad mon agast;
Of gold and selver thei tok non hede,
But out of ther houses ful sone thei past.
Chaumbres, chymeneys, al to-brast,
Chirches and castelles foule gon fare;
Pinacles, steples, to grounde hit cast;
And al was for warnyng to be ware.
. . . . . .
The rysyng of the comuynes in londe,
The pestilens, and the eorthe-qwake,
Theose threo thinges, I understonde,
Beoth tokenes the grete vengaunce and wrake
That schulde falle for synnes sake,
As this clerkes conne declare.
Now may we chese to leve or take,
For warnyng have we to be ware.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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The Bell Buoy
They christened my brother of old--
And a saintly name he bears--
They gave him his place to hold
At the head of the belfry-stairs,
Where the minister-towers stand
And the breeding kestrels cry.
Would I change with my brother a league inland?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!
In the flush of the hot June prime,
O'er sleek flood-tides afire,
I hear him hurry the chime
To the bidding of checked Desire;
Till the sweated ringers tire
And the wild bob-majors die.
Could I wait for my turn in the godly choir?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!
When the smoking scud is blown--
When the greasy wind-rack lowers--
Apart and at peace and alone,
He counts the changeless hours.
He wars with darkling Powers
(I war with a darkling sea);
Would he stoop to my work in the gusty mirk?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not he!
There was never a priest to pray
There was never a hand to toll,
When they made me guard of the bay,
And moored me over the shoal.
I rock, I reel, and I roll--
My four great hammers ply--
Could I speak or be still at the Church's will?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!
The landward marks have failed,
The fog-bank glides unguessed,
The seaward lights are veiled,
The spent deep feigns her rest:
But my ear is laid to her breast,
I lift to the swell--I cry!
Could I wait in sloth on the Church's oath?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!
At the careless end of night
I thrill to the nearing screw;
I turn in the clearing light
And I call to the drowsy crew;
And the mud boils foul and blue
As the blind bow backs away.
Will they give me their thanks if they clear the banks?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not they!
The beach-pools cake and skim,
The bursting spray-heads freeze,
I gather on crown and rim
The grey, grained ice of the seas,
Where, sheathed from bitt to trees,
The plunging colliers lie.
Would I barter my place for the Church's grace?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!
Through the blur of the whirling snow,
Or the black of the inky sleet,
The lanterns gather and grow,
And I look for the homeward fleet.
Rattle of block and sheet--
"Ready about-stand by!"
Shall I ask them a fee ere they fetch the quay?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!
I dip and I surge and I swing
In the rip of the racing tide,
By the gates of doom I sing,
On the horns of death I ride.
A ship-length overside,
Between the course and the sand,
Fretted and bound I bide
Peril whereof I cry.
Would I change with my brother a league inland?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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