Related quotes
Sowing my wild oats
Oats
Wild oats
My wild oats
Sowing my wild oats?
Since when did I have any wild oats to sow?
Middle age brings on the nostalgia for an enfance perdue
I would act differently now,
Gone wild with girls and boys
No doubt caught some venereal disease
But hopefully not AIDS
It is now that I have studied
And learnt that fornication
Viewed linguistically
Is from furnix,
the bridge where prostitutes hung out
So the prohibition if there was one
Was against prostitution, the abuse of women
Not against sex before marriage
With a loving partner
In a consensual relationship
And probably one leading to marriage.
How would that have changed me?
Would I have taken up some of the offers?
Male as well as female,
In Durham as well as in France?
Too late now but the will is still there
To love everyone, well almost, and sleep with many
Nothing worse though than a middle age man
Trying to live like a teenager
Wild oats are for the young,
With the old they are sour grapes.
©2009
James Hart
poem by James Hart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Karma
I drop a stone into the ocean
Every choice another turn of the screw
Another wheel set in motion
With every single thing I do
Its there in the air that I breathe
Its in my whisper and scream
Inside everything I believe
And its all gonna come around someday
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
There is no absolution whether Im the garden or the rose
If I aint part of the solution, yeah you know how that goes
You can always leave but you bring it all back home someday
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
Every single thing I say, everyone that I betray
Any love that I take when I do not make it in return
Every thing I do and every time Ive been unfaithful too
All the things that I believe are lessons I must learn
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Pain runs through my body
Pain runs through my body, and I don't need anymore.
Pain runs through my body, so leave me alone you whore.
Pain runs through my blood, as I start to bleed.
Pain runs through my body, and love is what I need.
Pain runs through my body, everyday of my life.
Pain runs through my body, as I pick up the knife.
Pain runs through my body, as I put it through my chest.
Pain runs through my body and I think you know the rest.
poem by Ari Castillo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Show Yourself
When I was small I used to stand
With my hand on my heart
And I would sing to you
You were my son and my lover
My father and my brother
I beleived in you
It was so easy then
It was so easy then
But where are you now
It seems like you cant hear me anymore
Maybe youre just getting too old
But do you remember
201 years ago
When you were young
How strong you had become
Promising every one you sweet gift of freedom,
Now you know exactly who I am
I seem to tell you all the time
Now tell me some kind of truth about yourself
Your life should be as opena s mine
There are children dying for you
That doesnt sound like freedom to me
You keep lyin about why theyre dyin
When they should be concieved in liberty
Show yourself
Show yourself to me
Youre the one that told me
Remember
You told me I was born to be free
Open all your doors I want to see
All your doors and your keys
I want to see I want to hear you
All 88 keys yeah
Oh give it to me
Show yourself
Show yourself to me
I want to see tha stars and the stripes
That can make those things scream
Show yourself
Show yourself to me
Expose yourself I wanna see your face
Come on give it to me
Show yourself
Show yourself to me
Are you rca
Are you standard oil
Are you a.t.&t. I wanna see
Give it to me if you got one
I wanna see come on and show yourself
Who runs this? who runs this country?
Show me
Show yourself
Give it to me
Show yourself to me
I want to know I wanna see
Give it to me show yourself
Show yourself to me
I want you know I wanna see
Give it to me show yourself
Show yourself to me
Who runs it? who runs it around?
Show me show me show your face to me
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Some Of Your Lovin
Gerry goffin / carole king)
You gotta give me some
Give me some of your lovin
You gotta give me some of your lovin
Now Im not a greedy girl
I dont need the world
(just give me some)
Some of your lovin now, oh, oh, oh, oh
Now I dont expect you to guarantee
Your faith and devotion to only me
Im aware you got a lot of wild oats to sow
But baby when I need you
Dont you tell me no
You gotta give me some
(give me some of your lovin)
Oh yes you do now
You gotta give me some of your lovin
Now Im not a jealous child
My demands are mild
(just give me some)
Some of your lovin now, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
I know a man likes to feel that hes been around
Before he decides to settle down
Ive no doubt
Some day youre gonna feel that way too
But baby, just remember
(until you do)
You gotta give me some
(give me some of your lovin)
Oh yes you do now
I mean to tell you
(you gotta give me some)
Of your lovin
Now Im not a greedy girl
I dont need the world
(just give me some)
Some of your lovin now, oh oh, oh, oh
You gotta give me some, some of your lovin
I mean to tell you
(you gotta give me some of your lovin)
Oh, dont forget about me now
I mean to tell you, oh
Ah, you gotta give me some of your lovin
Some of your lovin
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
There Is Nothing To Sigh For
because he cannot have one
he forgets it
but others are showing so many of theirs
that makes him
so insecure that sometimes he feels that
he is
an alien in this planet
and hence perhaps belongs to another
he copes up
recovers his composure saying. ' i am different' and
' i don't belong here but i am here somehow'
and hence must make the best of what he is
and what he can be
anyway, time runs and times runs so fast
what they all have they must give back
and since he has nothing
he does not have to carry anything to give back
traveling so lightly
like a butterfly floating in air when the ending
finally comes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Be With Me
(carly simon/zach weisner)
River runs to the sea
Salmon runs to the sea
If you need someone
You can run to me
Flowers grow to the sun
Shines on everyone
If youve lost the warmth
I will give you some
Lay back on the starry night
Feel as big and as small as you are
Well I see who you are
And I like what I see
If you want to be
You can be with me
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Petit Vieux
"Sow your wild oats in your youth," so we're always told;
But I say with deeper sooth: "Sow them when you're old."
I'll be wise till I'm about seventy or so:
Then, by Gad! I'll blossom out as an ancient beau.
I'll assume a dashing air, laugh with loud Ha! ha! . . .
How my grandchildren will stare at their grandpapa!
Their perfection aureoled I will scandalize:
Won't I be a hoary old sinner in their eyes!
Watch me, how I'll learn to chaff barmaids in a bar;
Scotches daily, gayly quaff, puff a fierce cigar.
I will haunt the Tango teas, at the stage-door stand;
Wait for Dolly Dimpleknees, bouquet in my hand.
Then at seventy I'll take flutters at roulette;
While at eighty hope I'll make good at poker yet;
And in fashionable togs to the races go,
Gayest of the gay old dogs, ninety years or so.
"Sow your wild oats while you're young," that's what you are told;
Don't believe the foolish tongue -- sow 'em when you're old.
Till you're threescore years and ten, take my humble tip,
Sow your nice tame oats and then . . . Hi, boys! Let 'er rip.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Name That Runs
Underneath the sea stands a river of silk and milk that runs,
Opening thoughts of you, the dispute of a month that runs.
I have a maze of worries that tortures the depths of the mind,
Offering me a solution shall be the ocean that is the millionth that runs.
One person is one antagonist, the anatomy of whom excretes blood,
Fetching horrible nightmares like those heroes of the labyrinth that runs.
Let the heavens be attached to the barbarians and soldiers,
One masters them as a battle that rages on as the zillionth that runs.
One will escape the rigours of youth to face a war on the frontline,
Battle systems need generals and wizards of the heavens, the seventh that runs.
I have my name engraved like a stone of weight, the grave so morbid,
One masters my writing as if the relics are as morbid as the trillionth that runs.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inside Your Head
It's so hard to keep and stay,
Inside your head.
Any wisdom from you runs...
Run, run, runs.
With a running done that comes,
Run, run, runs.
With a running done that comes,
Run, run, runs.
When you open your mouth,
Out it comes...
Something ignorant is done,
Really dumb, dumb.
Something ignorant is done,
Really dumb, dumb.
And you might think your responses are cute.
When you choose something abusive,
To say that's aloof.
And you might think your responses are cute.
When you choose abusive uses,
To say that are loose.
But,
Any wisdom from you runs...
Run, run, runs.
With a running that is done,
Runs, run, run..
With a running that is done,
Run, runs, run.
It's so hard to keep and stay...
Inside your head.
When you open your mouth,
Any face will turn red.
'Cause,
Any wisdom from you runs...
Run, run, runs.
With a running that is done,
Runs, run, run..
With a running that is done,
Run, runs, run.
Any wisdom from you runs.
Run, run, runs.
It's so hard to keep and stay...
Inside your head.
It's so hard to keep and stay...
A wisdom chased away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Consciousness
Mass and energy is one and the same.
On conversion, they interchange forms.
No gain or no loss is their total sum.
Consciousness runs through them over time.
Water is the essence and consciousness
That runs through ice, steam, mist, dues, fog and frost.
Life energy is the sole consciousness
That runs through plants, animals and humans.
The Universe is constantly evolving.
Living organisms are evolving from the earth
And dissolve into the earth over time.
The consciousness runs through uncut.
Adults give birth to new ones and will die.
The new ones grow to adults and give births.
The adult protrudes its mass and energy
While it itself dissolves into the earth.
Formless consciousness takes variant forms,
Which are, however, impermanent.
Body, senses and mind make human form.
Human form is made of fluent energy.
The energy is undying and unborn.
The life energy manifest in forms
Dies not when the form disintegrates
And only extends when new one develops.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Harvest Song
I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled.
But I am too chilled, and too fatigued to bind them.
And I hunger.
I crack a grain between my teeth. I do not taste it.
I have been in the fields all day. My throat is dry.
I hunger.
My eyes are caked with dust of oatfields at harvest-time.
I am a blind man who stares across the hills, seeking stack'd fields of other harvesters.
It would be good to see them . . crook'd, split, and iron-ring'd handles of the scythes. It would be good to see them, dust-caked and blind. I hunger.
(Dusk is a strange fear'd sheath their blades are dull'd in.)
My throat is dry. And should I call, a cracked grain like the oats...eoho--
I fear to call. What should they hear me, and offer me their grain, oats, or wheat, or corn? I have been in the fields all day. I fear I could not taste it. I fear knowledge of my hunger.
My ears are caked with dust of oatfields at harvest-time.
I am a deaf man who strains to hear the calls of other harvesters whose throats are also dry.
It would be good to hear their songs . . reapers of the sweet-stalk'd cane, cutters of the corn...even though their throats cracked and the strangeness of their voices deafened me.
I hunger. My throat is dry. Now that the sun has set and I am chilled, I fear to call. (Eoho, my brothers!)
I am a reaper. (Eoho!) All my oats are cradled.
But I am too fatigued to bind them. And I hunger.
I crack a grain. It has no taste to it.
My throat is dry...
O my brothers, I beat my palms, still soft, against the stubble of my harvesting. (You beat your soft palms, too.) My pain is sweet. Sweeter than the oats or wheat or corn. It will not bring me knowledge of my hunger.
poem by Jean Toomer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dom Writes A Letter To Her Slave
you are
what i tell you to be. i
and i alone
give you your identity;
your true name
rings not
within the mind
but throughout
your body, it runs
shivers down your spine,
(an anticipation.) i can
take it away,
make you worth nothing,
less than what
you were without
me. this i give
to you, my
faithful little boy.
poem by Valerie Jaeger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pejar Creek
Deep in the meadow grass
Easy stand the cattle,
Lightly lock the young bulls
In a mimic battle,
Pride gathers with each shock,
Every break and rally -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Softly as a thrush sings
In the morning hushes,
Softly sing the waters
Round the reedy rushes,
Softly at the sand-bar,
Softly at the sally -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Where awakes the morning
To dapple all the hills,
Where dewdrop, shaken,
Pendant slides and spills,
Where the golden bugles
Sunset calls reveille -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Where the springtime blossoms
Like a mellow laughter,
Over all the grasses,
Over ridge and rafter,
Over all the tree-tops,
Down each ferny valley -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Where the Pejar rises
Springs the Wollondilly,
Twinned upon the mountains
Babbling brook and ghyllie;
Where the bridge-heads rumble
Side by side they dally -
Out where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blowing In The Wind
Blowing in the Wind
Wild oats and thistles covered the track swiping at my legs
as a punishment for old sins I thought safely forgotten in
the misty dale that makes wars look romantic adventures
that separated men from boys where trespasses are buried
under flowers and manly never referred to unless you are
A soppy fool who betrays old soldiers’ secrets.
The cottage was still there but trees around it had grown so
big it could not be seen from the road; the door was easy to
open windows had layers of spiders’ webs as curtains made
the room shady in the noon heat. In intense silence the past
came thundering alive, so many grave not visited and tears
of those betrayed ran down my cheeks, a lake of clarity,
a mirror I couldn’t run away from I punched the stone wall,
bloody knuckles I had spilt much blood, never my own,
I savoured the pain, stood on an ancient table threw a rope
over a beam, when my dog barked wanted to come in from
the noon heat…At ease now I walked back to the road and
behind me a hangman’s noose gently swayed.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roll Away
(will jennings / martee lebow)
Everyday when I look in the mirror
I try to see where my souls at now
Happy day - is it further or nearer?
On the way, will I find it somehow?
Yesterdays gone
Love lead me on, oh
I wont ask why
Roll away - its only time and the river
Roll away - to the endless sea
Roll away - it could all change tomorrow
This is life in its glory
And the river runs free
Roll away
My dreams build the walls of the city
Broken hearts tear them all down
It aint always easy and pretty
Its just the world turning around
Give us this day
Give us this night, oh
Itll be all right
Roll away - its only time and the river
Roll away - to the endless sea
Roll away - it could all change tomorrow
This is life in its glory
And the river runs free
Oh, roll away
Everyday when I look in the mirror
I try to see where my souls at now
Roll away - its only time and the river
Roll away - to the endless sea
Roll away - it could all change tomorrow
This is life in its glory
And the river runs free
Roll away - its only time and the river
Roll away - to the endless sea
Roll away - it could all change tomorrow
This is life in its glory
And the river runs free
Roll away, ahh, oh
Ahh, ha, ho
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Give The People What They Want
Hey, hey, hey...
Give the people what they want
Well, its been said before, the world is a stage
A different performance with every age.
Open the history book to any old page
Bring on the lions and open the cage.
Give the people what they want
You gotta give the people what they want
The more they get, the more they need
And every time they get harder and harder to please
The roman promoters really did things right.
They needed a show that would clearly excite.
The attendance was sparse so they put on a fight
Threw the christians to the lions, sold out every night
Give the people what they want
You gotta give the people what they want
The more they get, the more they need
And every time they get harder and harder to please
Give em lots of sex, perversion and rape
Give em lots of violence, and plenty to hate
Give the people what they want
Give the people what they want
When olswald shot kennedy, he was insane
But still we watch the re-runs again and again
We all sit glued while the killer takes aim
Hey mom, there goes a piece of the presidents brain!
Give the people what they want
You gotta give the people what they want
Blow out your brains, and do it right
Make sure its prime time and on a saturday night.
You gotta give the people what they want
You gotta give the people what they want
Give the people what they want
Give the people what they want
Give the people what they want
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When The Money Runs Out/Another Poem Will Not Save Me
When the money runs out
Another poem will not save me-
When the money runs out
The poems will be a bit less poetic-
They will seem more meaningless-
All the years of writing them
Will seem more a waste and an indulgence-
When the money runs out
And I am working or trying to work
For not enough money
And guilty at being in debt
And frightened at not being able to pay on time
The poems will seem another kind of thing entirely
And I will wonder how I could have once given so much time to something
That does not make a cent-
When the money runs out
The poetry may run out with it
I will be the slave of small sums
And have lost my time and dedication
To what I have loved most.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!