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Clean
Today, everything was fine fine fine
Until roundabout quarter to 9, suddenly I found myself in a bind, a bind
Was it something I said
Something I read
And manifest thats getting you down
Dont you dare come to bed with that ambiguous look in your eye
Id sooner sleep by an open fire and wake up fried
Say what u will
Say what u mean
No, you could never offend
Your dirty words come out clean, clean
Tomorrow, what price will I pay
Could I make it all up to you by serving coffee for two in bed, would you then give me
The time of day
I need a map of your head, translated into english so I can learn to not make you frown
Feel better if you vent, put your frustrations into four letter words and let them out on
Mine
The most weathered ears in town!
Say what u will
Say what u mean
No, you could never offend
Your dirty words come out clean
Clean (x6)
Say what u will
Say what u mean
No, you could never offend
Your dirt words come out clean
Say what u will
Say what u mean
No, you could never offend
Your dirty words come out clean, clean
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You come before me this morning with clean hands and clean collars. I want you to have clean tongues, clean manners, clean morals and clean characters.
quote by John Burns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clean
Eat clean,
Live clean,
Sleep clean,
dress clean,
Walk clean,
Learn clean,
Play clean,
Think clean,
dance clean,
Talk clean,
Sing clean,
work clean,
Because the world around you is watching what you do;
You are the only one on this earth,
So live and let us live too.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The masses demand a fighting President, and that means you've got to offend somebody, because the way I see it, a strong offense is the best attack. So what can you offend? That's an easy one. Offend the other candidates, because they'll be too busy talking to hear you, and besides, they might not vote for you anyway.
quote by Gracie Allen
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fractured
can't you see my hands are clean
I'm as holy as can be
I will never do you harm
I am fractured
it can't ever be the same
can't you see my hands
are clean
can't you see,
I'm as holy as can be
what kind of life is this?
what kind of life is this?
can't you see my hands are clean,
can't you see, i'm as holy as can be
I'll never do you harm again,
I am fractured,
it can never be the same
what kind of...
i warned you a thousand times
it's like crying to the clouds
and why are you asking me,
questions you already know the answer to,
can't you see,
my hands are clean
what kind of...
song performed by by Zeromancer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tees spoon
Hand is
Use for eat...
Ok...
Wash every time
At your's hands...
At every works...
Wash your's hands...
Clean...
with clean...
Wash And eat food...
Tell about your children
Today...
Wash hands
And eat...
You are lazy
Don't wash
Your hands...
Use tees spoon...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Washed My Hands In Muddy Water (Rehearsal 07-29-70)
I was born in Macon Georgia
They kept my daddy over in Macon jail
He told me if you keep your hands clean
You won't hear them bloodhounds on your trail
Well I fell in with bad companions
Robbed a man, oh up in Tennessee
They caught me way up in Nashville
They locked me up and threw away the key
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didn't come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream
Well I asked the judge now when's my time up
He said son, oh you know we won't forget
If you try just to keep your hands clean
We might just make a good man of you yet
Oh I couldn't wait to get my time up
I broke out, broke out of Nashville jail
I just crossed the state-line of Georgia
Well I can hear those bloodhounds on my trail
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didn't come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Washed My Hands In Muddy Water
(words & music by joe babcock)
I was born in macon georgia
They kept my daddy over in macon jail
He told me if you keep your hands clean
You wont hear them bloodhounds on your trail
Well I fell in with bad companions
Robbed a man, oh up in tennessee
They caught me way up in nashville
They locked me up and threw away the key
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didnt come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream
Well I asked the judge now whens my time up
He said son, oh you know we wont forget
If you try just to keep your hands clean
We might just make a good man of you yet
Oh I couldnt wait to get my time up
I broke out, broke out of nashville jail
I just crossed the state-line of georgia
Well I can hear those bloodhounds on my trail
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didnt come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crawford washed her hands a lot. She washed her arms all the way up past her elbows. She just couldn't get enough done in that direction. She was compulsive about being clean, clean, clean!
If I Offend, So Be It
If I offend...
So be it!
I am not here,
To be the 'next' James Baldwin.
Or follow in the footsteps,
Of Langston Hughes.
The shoes I wear are quite comfortable.
And the path I walk upon,
Has not already been paved.
That is the task that has be laid before me.
To do that myself!
If I offend...
So be it!
I am not living my life intending to be anyone else,
Than who I am.
I am the first Lawrence S. Pertillar.
And make no mistake about it...
I will be acknowledged,
For the life I've lived.
If I offend...
So be it!
I just know who it is I am.
And I am not who I am because I seek to get paid for it!
Like most folks lost and deluded,
By the meaning of 'identity'.
I've been blessed and I am grateful...
To have a dignity as well.
And 'if' I offend...
So be it!
There's so many others,
Who have minds associated with making a quick buck.
And people like that...
Are indoctrinated with corrupted agendas!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Me Help You Mend
Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.
Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.
Unlock your hold on troubles,
You keep deep...
To repeat.
Release them from yourself,
And you'll be free...
To visit me.
Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.
Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.
Let me,
Help you mend...
And now!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Offend In Every Way
I'm patient of this plan,
As humble as I can.
I'll wait another day,
Before I turn away.
But know this much is true,
No matter what I do,
Offend in every way,
I don't know what to say.
I'm commin through the door,
But they're expecting more,
Of an interesting man.
Sometimes I think I can,
But how much can I fake?
I'll speak until I break,
With every word I say,
Offend in every way.
You tell me to relax,
and listen to these facts.
That everyone's my friend,
And will be till the end.
But know this much is true,
No matter what I do,
No matter what I say,
Offend in every way.
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Hands
Given by God -are these hands!
One can do many things -with these hands
With love one can help a strangers' hands-
Allay and comfort the elders' gnarled hands
Clean sweep and mop with these hands
Decorate and embellish with these hands
Cook and serve food to all with these hands
Clasp a loved one with these hands
Applaud one with pleasure with these hands
Dig the soil and form a garden with these hands
Hold a book to read with these hands
Write and post a card with these hands
Type a poem to cheer someone with these hands
Draw a picture and sew clothes with these hands
Paint a beautiful scene to amuse with these hands
Play a game of volley ball or cricket with these hands
Swim the waters and row a boat with these hands
Pick the harvests and fruits with these hands
Feed the animals and birds with these hands
Seek the warmth of dear ones with these hands
Feel the soft petals of a flower with these hands
Fold the palms to pray with these hands
Given by God - are these hands!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Offended In Every Way
Im patient of this plan
as humble as I can
Ill wait another day
before I turn awaya
but know this much is true
no matter what I do
offend in every way
I dont know what to say
You tell me to relax
and listen to these facts
that everyones my friend
and will be till the end
but know this much is true
no matter what I do
no matter what I say
offend in every way
Im walking through the door
but theyre expecting more
of an interesting man
and sometimes I think I can
but how much can I fake
Ill speak until I break
with every word I say
offend in every way
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirty Jim
THERE was one little Jim,
'Tis reported of him,
And must be to his lasting disgrace,
That he never was seen
With hands at all clean,
Nor yet ever clean was his face.
His friends were much hurt
To see so much dirt,
And often they made him quite clean;
But all was in vain,
He got dirty again,
And not at all fit to be seen.
It gave him no pain
To hear them complain,
Nor his own dirty clothes to survey:
His indolent mind
No pleasure could find
In tidy and wholesome array.
The idle and bad,
Like this little lad,
May love dirty ways, to be sure;
But good boys are seen
To be decent and clean,
Although they are ever so poor.
poem by Ann Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dirty Jim
THERE was one little Jim,
'Tis reported of him,
And must be to his lasting disgrace,
That he never was seen
With hands at all clean,
Nor yet ever clean was his face. . . .
His friends were much hurt
To see so much dirt,
And often they made him quite clean;
But all was in vain,
He got dirty again,
And not at all fit to be seen.
It gave him no pain
To hear them complain,
Nor his own dirty clothes to survey:
His indolent mind
No pleasure could find
In tidy and wholesome array.
The idle and bad,
Like this little lad,
May love dirty ways, to be sure;
But good boys are seen
To be decent and clean,
Although they are ever so poor.
poem by Jane Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never offend people with style when you can offend them with substance.
Sam Brown in Washington Post (1977)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cleanest Man....
he is clean
he prides about the beard
that he has
just shaven
he is clean
there is no hair left on his head
no hair between his thighs
and legs
he is clean
his chest is bare now
his heart slowly
beating
he is clean as he
is empty
like a room without
furniture and
drapes
he is clean and without
sin
he who has not done
anything
and can do not wrong again...
he is clean now
for he is dead....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never offend people with style when you can offend them with substance.
Clean Up The World
Clean Up The World
Where have we gone?
We’ve drifted away
Too many years
Nothin’ to say
Too many years
Intentional lies
Too many years
Collegiate-laundered hipplets
Drivin’ us to demise
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Along came McRonald
We got in its way
Too many years
Puppeteers played
Too many years
Stealing us blind
Too many years
Of totalitarians smothering us from the right
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Their Wall Street money’s been holdin’ us fast
Ideals shallow and vain
They sell us all just to make it last
Revolution of ‘89 today
We got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Self-centered cosmos
Material gain
Too many years
Deflecting their blame
Too many years
Stuffin’ their cart
Too many years
Deceit inside the head
Instead of love in their heart
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its grave
Copyright 1992 Will Fiala
poem by Will Fiala
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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