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It is true, I see it more often
That for the sake of a single rose
The gardener becomes the servant
To a hundred thorns
So let the gardener come
To my house
And I will teach him how to be wise.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do I Need The Pen
Do I need the pen to write
Deep is a dropp of a story inside
Like water that waters the garden
so then green is restored
Do I need the pen to sell
By going around and come back
With overhead are the pumpkins
that makes my day run go
Do I need the pen to relux
That fills my hope of moments
That files my days of the youth
On the timeline it goes
Do I need the pen to say
the little calabash with
a cool well behind the cup
That soothes inward the soul
And stops in a big full stop
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There's no such thing as 'hard sell' and 'soft sell.' There's only 'smart sell' and 'stupid sell.'
quote by Leo Burnett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Used Car Sales People
With the gift of the gab they would talk their way out of hell
These used car sales people they know how to sell
On their selling ability their jobs are at stake
The more cars they do sell the more commission they do make
On any deals they clinch they have never lost
And your trust on such people can come at a cost
The more cars they sell the more money they get paid
A hard job to succeed in the used car trade,
Shy and sensitive used car sales people one might say are rare
To sell one a car no effort they do spare
They have to sell cars or their boss them will fire
And other used car yard owners as car sales people them will not hire
The more cars they sell the greater is their pay
So to sell you a car they try every which way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Pumpkin grows in Midwife's yard
Her mother is a midwife
and she is a nanny to her far relative.
He collects pumpkins hastily for the sunday fair.
Do you think a street vendor sees pleasant dreams?
Anyhow please do not get surprised
if a street vendor marries a nanny
and she delivers precious children safely
as her mother knows the job perfectly.
Still the pumpkins grow in the yard
and the vendor collects them without any bargaining.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sell Me A Coat
La la la la la la la la la la la la la
A winters day, a bitter snowflake on my face
My summer girl takes little backward steps away
Jack frost took her hand and left me, jack frost aint so cool
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
And when she smiles, the ice forgets to melt away
Not like before, her smile was warming yesterday
See the trees like silver candy, feel my icy hand
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
See my eyes, my window pane
See my tears like gentle rain
Thats the memory of a summer day
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
La la la la la la
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pumpkin Parade
The pungent smell of autumn
With the air so crisp and cool
Golden leaves tumble to the ground
A time for nature’s renewal
The pumpkins are harvested
When autumn time appears
They are ripe and ready
For the parade we all revere
Horses are hooked up
To wagons and carts
Folks all pile in
And we’re ready to start
Aren’t they just beautiful?
The pumpkins I mean
Every size shade and style
It’s a sweet autumn dream
The air is so fresh
The time is so right
It’s a pumpkin parade
What a beautiful sight!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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When you sell a man a book, you don't sell him 12 ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life.
quote by Christopher Morley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've never felt like I was in the cookie business. I've always been in a feel good feeling business. My job is to sell joy. My job is to sell happiness. My job is to sell an experience.
quote by Debbi Fields
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If She Does
We’ve got in pumpkins-
Entire bins of pumpkins- and my job today
Was to kill the ants,
And think of something:
And this really beautiful mother came in today-
She looked like someone’s sister.
She looked like she’d played soccer in high school.
Then a man came in with gold teeth,
And I think he made a comment about my face
Under his breath-
I shouldn’t like to think what he had to say,
But I know he was Italian and a painter
And from New York,
But definitely not an artist,
And I was glad when he went away,
And after he went away I thought again of myself as
An artist
Who must try and look at his face from the sunburned
Shadows from the best possible angles
And try to make the best of it,
And be happy that that beautiful young mother came in
And asked my name,
And said that she would be back to buy a Christmas tree.
If she comes, then I’ll have to find out her name,
And see if she doesn’t want to ride bicycles near the sea:
If she does it will be the first time I’ve been with a woman
In seven years,
And the very first time I’ve been with a beautiful woman
Not counting a couple prostitutes
If she does.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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The Song of the Garden-Toad
Down, down beneath the daisy beds,
O hear the cries of pain!
And moaning on the cinder-path
They're blind amid the rain.
Can murmurs of the worms arise
To higher hearts than mine?
I wonder if that gardener hears
Who made the mold all fine
And packed each gentle seedling down
So carefully in line?
I watched the red rose reaching up
To ask him if he heard
Those cries that stung the evening earth
Till all the rose-roots stirred.
She asked him if he felt the hate
That burned beneath them there.
She asked him if he heard the curse
Of worms in black despair.
He kissed the rose. What did it mean?
What of the rose's prayer?
Down, down where rain has never come
They fight in burning graves,
Bleeding and drinking blood
Within those venom-caves.
Blaspheming still the gardener's name,
They live and hate and go.
I wonder if the gardener heard
The rose that told him so?
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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He who never eats pumpkins with you, you prepare a few slices for him.
Don't plant pumpkins where they never sprouted.
Serbo Croatian proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0013 Pink Without Think
My friend the gardener who manages
to combine romantic or ex-romantic
with realist and fine poet and
loving gardener and teacher
and much else, harmoniously,
points out to me that the pink geranium
swinging gently in its hanging basket
in the late September sun, with
an effusive burst of flowering
which it alternates with exhausted,
barely green recovery and dry stalk,
puts on this display simply (simply!)
to attract insects to accidentally
(accidentally!) aid it to
propagate its species..
so I, who am nothing to it
except perhaps a passing Samaritan
who gives it water in a thirsty summer
and, perhaps irrelevantly, perhaps
from deeper cause,
received just now a shout
of pure pinkness from it so that
my senses thrilled, passed the message uncommented
to what seemed like my purest being,
am indeed attracted, my nature to that of it,
animal or human I’ll leave others to decide,
and from that vaguest of cosmic relevance
intend to see it through the winter
to the birth of Spring or spring of birth
with what - my gardener friend -
may well be love
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I never wanted to leave the Smashing Pumpkins. That was never the plan.
quote by Billy Corgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Work of Artifice
The bonsai tree
in the attractive pot
could have grown eighty feet tall
on the side of a mountain
till split by lightning.
But a gardener
carefully pruned it.
It is nine inches high.
Every day as he
whittles back the branches
the gardener croons,
It is your nature
to be small and cozy,
domestic and weak;
how lucky, little tree,
to have a pot to grow in.
With living creatures
one must begin very early
to dwarf their growth:
the bound feet,
the crippled brain,
the hair in curlers,
the hands you
love to touch.
poem by Marge Piercy
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One cannot manage too many affairs; like pumpkins in water, one pops up while you try to hold down the other.
If one saws pumpkins with the devil, they will bash onto one's head.
Serbo Croatian proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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rubbish dump site
soon - some pumpkins
for your family
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Total Control
(m. davis, j. jourard)
Producer: carter
Album: we are the world (usa for africa)(85), the collected recordings (94)
Looking counter clockwise
Knowing what could happen
Any moment maybe you
Maybe even you
Steadfast collapse
Always certain any moment
Maybe you maybe you
Maybe even you
Recline complete dreams too sweet
I cant do it not with you
Not even with you
Maybe never with you
And Id sell my soul for total control
Yeah Id sell my soul for total control
Street wet tonight, lovers touch
Its pure delight
Always certain any moment
Maybe even you
Stay in bed stained sheets
My head hurts I repeat
Maybe you maybe you
Maybe even you
And Id sell my soul for total control
Yeah Id sell my soul for total control
Id sell my soul for total control
Over you, over you
Total control over you
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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