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Vanity Kills
Have you heard the latest? (you love you)
Have you seen who just walked in (vain vain vain vain)
(uh huh, you love you) right over there
Shes so vain vain vain vain
Vain vain vain vain
Im glad youve found someone who loves you
But sad to say that someone is you
And now perhaps youll both be happy
Guess that makes two just you and you
Someone who cares so much about you
But does that someone have to be you
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom yeah
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom yeah
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, it kills
So glad I found you glancing in the mirror
Gazing deeply at loves patron saint
Admire the frame, survey the scenery
Or are you just inspecting the paint
Temptations strong modestys so weak
High on yourself humble you aint
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom yeah
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom yeah
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills (no way)
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, it kills
So vain, vain vain vain
You love you (yeah)
Give it, give it us, give it us
So vain, so vain, so vain
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, if the blast dont get you
Then the fallout will
You love you
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have pride and vanity
Service and sacrifice can be the base
For your pride and not your caste or creed.
Have pride that you have helped someone rise
And not that you have conquered someone.
Pride is that one feels about oneself high.
Show vanity for your simplicity;
Show not vanity for your affluence.
Show vanity for your affinity;
Show not vanity for your elegance.
Vanity is that one shows oneself high.
11.07.208
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pulling Weeds
Indeed gluttony and greed are not needed in this world.
But still they are children who need not starve.
We just keep cutting weeds expecting another one not to grow.
We need to pull it out by the root if really believe this to be so.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Seven Sins again
>
> Do we as a people really know or care
> Concerning the seven sins?
>
> Those sins are apart of our every day life.
> Those sins are apart of our strife.
> I've heard the first was vanity or pride
>
> Now that is an hell of a ride...
> Be it physical or spiritual, how would
> One keep his/her feet on the ground?
>
> Sanity what a big role...
> Does God have pride? Then I am lost.
> What mean the word boss?
>
> Those seven sins has really cost,
> Things to be...
> Unfree and that will include me.
Was it pride that set Eve free
And made Adam give up his freedom of will?
Still...
I must appeal...
I am not ill...
But the seven is a thrill...for real,
What envy you? and who...why?
And do you cry?
The have and the have nots...
Gluttony would that be?
Are all seven just pure envy?
Lust not and bust...
Lust not and rust...
The wrath of lust not is have not,
Either way you go...
Whatever door...rich or poor,
Kindness and anger in the long run meet,
Good or bad we sit and eat.
Sometimes eating out of greed...
God speed...
Is lust greed or pride?
Or just sloth...denied?
A natural, physical and spiritual guide.
'Man she looks good'
Gluttony in the hood.
'He is so fine'...or just signs of the time,
Lust is not mine.
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Oh Vanity
Oh vanity oh vanity
You only like to read
About beauty
Little about pain
Or hateful disdain
Am I so vain
Am I so shallow
To refuse a
Dark place to go
I'll lend a hand
To those in need
I'll give my love
While looking up
Is this not positivity
Not vanity
poem by Harriet James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Night Will Soon Be Lost
THE NIGHT WILL SOON BE LOST
The night will soon be lost
Another night of so many already gone
Who knows how many left?
I have seen far more nights
Than I will ever see again
Mostly it’s done
I have some nights left
But not so many
That I should waste it wholly
On frivolity
I’ll try now
To write a poem down
So this night
Will not have been wholly in vain
But who knows
Vanity of vanity of vanity
Perhaps for all nights and all poems- vanity
I am writing this poem down nonetheless
It flows as if it knows it has real life within it
I don’t know now how long this night will last
Or how many nights I have left
I have written a poem
Will G-d save it as if it were not vanity to vanity?
I do not know.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Gluttony and I
I have Gluttony's appetite!
my calories intoxicate.
Food plumps my mental wit;
eating slight dulls merriment.
Fill my tankard now!
Let Gluttony abound!
Heave comestibles round my plate!
Obscure my seat mates stick-thin bags of bones.
I vowed at 35 to then forsake
the premature death self-denial brings.
At death, in a coffin large, perhaps,
no one will shame or condemn me
simply because I ate my fill
and bedded down with Gluttony.
No one will say at my Wake
'My he looks beautifully thin'
rather I fully expect
they'll ignore the matter of weight
and comment 'Humm. he looks real good dead.'
So I ask why should I restrict
my draught and food intake?
I hear the cat-calls
and pleas all around
'Keep eating that way and you will put your health at
risk'
Maybe, but, we will all someday,
in life, check out through double doors on high
I for one want to order first
a burger and some fries!
Put there, too, in stone
my final epithet;
'He had a good time-
Ate Everything In Sight.'
PS. While others at the funeral
debate the yang and ying
slip over by my coffin top
won't you
some spicy chicken wings!
When they bury me,
ignore those munching sounds
you hear
below the coffin closed.
Some caviar, an aperitif
at work, I suspect
the happy traveler!
Remember this:
'Misunderstood he was
and, too, dear friend Gluttony.'
So Gluttony smuttony.
Who gives a care?
Pass me friend the large ladle
and an hour from now
all of this
will go to the wind!
Gluttony, Gluttony
friend to the end!
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The One Certainty
Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith,
All things are vanity. The eye and ear
Cannot be filled with what they see and hear.
Like early dew, or like the sudden breath
Of wind, or like the grass that withereth,
Is man, tossed to and fro by hope and fear:
So little joy hath he, so little cheer,
Till all things end in the long dust of death.
To-day is still the same as yesterday,
To-morrow also even as one of them;
And there is nothing new under the sun:
Until the ancient race of Time be run,
The old thorns shall grow out of the old stem,
And morning shall be cold and twilight grey.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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If I Could Only Bear My Own Silence
IF I COULD ONLY BEAR MY OWN SILENCE
If I could only bear my own silence
If I could only be quiet and still
If I could only let the world say itself
Without my commentary,
If I could only be wise enough
To know all my words
‘Vanity of vanity of vanity.
’
Oh again and again and again
As now
I must say that I am -
But in this world of billions now
And billions more before
And billions more after
Why me?
Why my name?
‘Vanity of vanities’
All aloud again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Complaints Return Upon Themselves
THE COMPLAINTS RETURN UPON THEMSELVES
The complaints return upon themselves
There is only old age under the sun.
Vanity of vanity of vanities
I am the greatest vanity of all.
Even the morning light
That usually wakes my soul
Cannot break the dim foreboding
Of Hell on the horizon.
I will die
I will go down
I know.
But my People
This Land
Will You Save us?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Grow Old
I grow old I should feel the cold
I grow old I should have grey hair
I grow old I should sit and stare
I grow old I should have false teeth
I grow old I should have poor sight
I grow old I should forget to write
I grow old I should have aches and pains
I grow old I should 'stroll down memory lane'
I grow old I should walk with a stick
But as I grow old I KICK ASS!
And that's about it!
poem by Yvette Smith
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Take Vanity Away
Oh take vanity away from me.
Make pure only my heart.
For vanity takes away from me
the most important part.
Let him that sees me, see past my form
and concentrate on my soul.
For that is of my body
is never the starring role.
What lies within the strength of my mind
is what should be possessed,
not the image I show to you,
not the way I'm dressed.
For outward appearance cannot compare
to the inner beauty inside.
Please let vanity be cast away
and take away my pride.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Come From Under the Trappings
Come from under the trappings.
Come from under your need,
To feed your gluttony.
Your needs to be strapped,
To that which can not touch you back!
Come from under the trappings!
There is much more to your life,
Than that!
Come from under the trappings.
Let your beliefs,
Remove the strangle hold and squeeze...
Placed upon the young.
Those that have followed you into darkness,
And have shielded from the Sun!
Those you have fed,
All the misdeeds...
That have blocked and shunned!
Come from under those trappings done.
They are shutting off your breath.
And speeding up your untimely death!
Come from under the trappings.
Come from under your need
To feed your gluttony.
Your needs to be strapped,
To that which can not touch you back!
Come from under the trappings!
There is much more to your life,
Than that!
You might as well!
They are being released from you physically!
Now...
It is time to remove yourself from that grind.
Come from under the trappings.
And find yourself that peace that awaits!
Those trappings can not define,
The quality of life when one has peace of mind!
Come from under the trappings.
Come from under your need
To feed your gluttony.
Your needs to be strapped,
To that which can not touch you back!
Come from under the trappings!
There is much more to your life,
Than that!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dipped and Greasy
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Many praying that the buffet will stay.
Many praying that they'll find another way,
To supply more condiments...
And remove the after dinner mints.
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy fingers licked...
Are slowly from us fading.
And those lips smacked,
Are begging for the buffet.
But a gluttony once loved...
Is slowly from us fading away.
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
They once were licked with ease,
But those fingers have no buffet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What is called generosity is usually only the vanity of giving; we enjoy the vanity more than the thing given.
quote by Francois de La Rochefoucauld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The only cure for vanity is laughter, and the only fault that is laughable is vanity.
quote by Henri Bergson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It seems to me that, in every culture, I come across a chapter headed ""Wisdom."" And then I know exactly what is going to follow: ""Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.""
quote by Ludwig Wittgenstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have come to have the firm conviction that vanity is the basis of everything, and finally that what one calls conscience is only inner vanity.
quote by Gustave Flaubert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothing so soothes our vanity as a display of greater vanity in others; it make us vain, in fact, of our modesty.
quote by Louis Kronenberger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What we call generosity is for the most part only the vanity of giving; and we exercise it because we are more fond of that vanity than of the thing we give.
quote by Francois de La Rochefoucauld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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