If skill could be gained by watching, every dog would become a butcher.
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Watching Me Watching You
I sit by the cutting on the beaconsfield line.
Hes watching me watching the trains go by.
And they move so fast --- boy, they really fly.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the way he stares --- feel like locking my door
And pulling my phone from the wall.
His eyes, like lights from a laser, burn
Making my hair stand --- making the goose-bumps crawl.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
At the cocktail party with a bucks fizz in my hand
I feel him watching me watching the girls go by.
And they move so smooth without even trying.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the crowd thins and he moves up close but he doesnt speak.
I have to look the other way.
But curiosity gets the better part of me and I peek:
Got two drinks in his hand --- see his lips move ---
What the hells he trying to say.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching
The trains go by.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me watching him watching.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Butcher's Shop - UK Style
Legs, Shoulders, Ribs and Shanks,
Chops, Sirloins, Breasts and Flanks,
These are all 'meats' of the Butcher's trade,
Where lots of delicious 'things' are made.
Hams, Pies, Pickles and Stuffing,
No I am really not bluffing,
Chicken, Goose, Turkey and Duck,
To buy these things you need some 'pluck'.
With these 'meats' you need to know,
How to steam and roast, real slow,
How to fry, simmer and grill,
It can be quite a difficult skill.
But the kindly Butcher will help you out,
You really only have to shout,
He knows the cuts, has all the info,
With all his knowledge, he's a real pro.
He knows how long to cook things for,
How the baste and how to score
The pork, so that lovely 'crackling' can be had,
Now think of it! That can't be bad.
There's livers, kidneys and chitterlings which,
Grab the taste buds, gee they're rich,
Bacon, sausages and corned beef slices,
Some with garlic, some with spices.
Whatever you like, it's all ready for you.
Even if you have to queue,
It's worth the wait, for what you'll get
It'll melt in the mouth, that I can bet!
Your friendly Butcher is a capable chap,
He'll answer your questions without a flap,
So try all his produce, the flavours are great,
You'll never have anything left on your plate.
There's variety beyond belief,
Try any 'meat' you'll come to no grief,
The choice is amazing, the recipes fab,
There's always a choice on the Butcher's slab.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The right one bows to the might.
The goat can’t expect mercy from the butcher.
The butcher has no guilt for his act on it.
The weak have necessarily to succumb
To the might, with their right notwithstanding.
24.11.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It wasn't until late high school and early college that I gained enough size and skill to make me welcome on intramural basketball teams.
quote by Paul D. Boyer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Bruises I
I can stare into the blackness,
the void of many abysses
behind every dark curtains
I can endure calm and silence
watching pole dancers grind,
watching stars scintillate,
watching still shadows on the walls,
watching dislimned reflections,
watching trees pass me by,
watching ethers wash the screen,
watching my lonely feet,
watching little things sway;
but am I the only one watching
these black bruised visions?
poem by Norman Santos
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Watching For Pa
Three little forms in the twilight gray,
Searching the shadows across the way;
Two pair of black eyes, and one of blue --
Brimful of love, and of mischief too;
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
May, with her placid and thoughtful brow,
Beaming with kindness and love just now;
Willie the youngest, in anguish did lay,
Stealing sly kisses from sister May,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Nellie, with ringlets of sunny hue,
Cosily nested between the two;
Pressing her cheeks to the window pane,
Wishing the absent one home again.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Now there are shouts from the window seat;
There is a patter of childish feet;
Gaily they rush through the lighted hall --
"Coming at last" is the joyful call.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Dasgupta asks...
What have you gained
if you have not gained yourself,
yourself the immortal,
yourself the infinite ?
What have you gained
if you have never tasted in your life
the deep longing to be free,
the deep longing to be liberated?
The spirit of the saints of all the ages
whispers in my ears -
what have you gained
if you have never tasted
the joys of self-surrender?
If your heart has not longed
to make of you a flute
in the hands of Krishna,
master musician of the universe?
And if you have not been able
to sweeten all your miseries
with a touch of God?
(versified from a lecture in Evanston, US, in 1926)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Didn't He Ramble
Didn't he ramble.... he rambled
Rambled all around.... in and out of town
Didn't he ramble....didn't he ramble
He rambled till the butcher cut him down
His feet was in the market place..his head was in the street
Lady pass him by, said..look at the market meat
He grabbed her pocket book..and said i wish you well
She pulled out a forty-five..said i'm head of personnel
Didn't he ramble...i said he rambled
Rambled all around...in and out of town
Didn't he ramble...oh didn't he ramble
He rambled till the butcher shot him down
(instrumental break)
He slipped into the cat house..made love to the stable
Madam caught him cold..said i'll pay you when i be able
Six months had passed ..and she stood all she could stand
She said buddy when i'm through with you
Ole groundhog gonna be shakin yo' hand
And didn't he ramble...he rambled
Rambled all around...in and out of town
Oh didn't he ramble......he rambled
You know he rambled...till the butcher...cut him down
I said he rambled..lord...'till the butcher shot him down
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ruminating the past
I gained my parents at my birth.
I gained my brothers and sisters
And then my kids and their kids
Every gain to me was a pleasure.
Then I grieve over the loss of them,
One by one, or at leaving them.
I weep and weep, profoundly weep
Over their death or in their sick beds.
What we lose is what we had gained.
The gained are destined to be lost
Or from them we shall be lost.
I recall the good they have done.
I repent the wrongs done to them.
Rumination of pleasure and regrets
Keep me at the old age engaged.
27.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Catch The Man
Catch the man who escapes for something,
His entrance to the jaws of life conveys nothing;
Might and power betrays the worker in outer life,
Mastered knowledge is the reality.
Caught in the act, a dog and man are the same,
The thief surpasses a butcher, but does the thief
Also butcher the one who is in his way,
The one in the way of success and prosperous conversation?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Butcher Boosted
Why do they flock,
To have their meat...
Stripped clean of fat?
And who is that selected...
To do just that?
This butcher boosted,
Is preferred!
And slices exactly what is wished.
To rid them of maggots leeching.
And feed to them a diet to feast...
With an increased desire,
To eat from a substance...
More nutritiously dished!
Without those promises of expectations...
That have left them with tastebuds,
Long on delusion!
And not fed with sensations demanded.
This butcher boosted...
Openly will command,
With an exposed and uncloaked hand...
Those who witness the slicing that is done,
Will come to understand!
This butcher boosted is no joke.
And each stroke is meant,
To rid them from all deceptions hidden.
And qualified are the intentions made...
To open all eyes along the way!
'There is no fat on this cat's back!
Down to basics.
With an eye on facts.
Delivered and received!
To nourish a return of reality believed.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Watching For Shapes
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Influences now are things that are all around me
Changing shape as they move around in an open mind
Coloured in by the images I find
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
Like electric sparks they danced by an open mirror
Closing doors never looking round but its not goodbye
Theyll be there till Im taken out I know
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
In my mind theres a space thats full of painted pictures
Things I did that I went through, but cant recall
Now and then theres a flash of the unknown
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
(watching for shapes that grow)
(watching for shapes that grow)
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We gained his operational capabilities and he gained our marketing skills.
quote by Mercer Reynolds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passion Creates Consummates Dreams
passion equates to energy inspirational flame
without energy nothing is ever produced gained
without energy nothing is adept proficient achieved
passion creates consummates gift dreams claim
skill talent capable no choice results produces
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Turning point for Friend Thad
The piercing arrows driven by
the power of a yew long bow.
Would change the course of history
As peasants laid the mailed knights low.
Aristocrats had hitherto
Been protected by plate mail.
Now thanks to English bows of Yew.
Their sure defence was doomed to fail.
At Agincourt the French knights found
The could be slain like common men.
The change this made was so profound
That war would never be the same again
Although the knights thought it unfair
and lacking in all chivalry.
The English bowmen did not care
and slew the hated cavalry
Who in the past had cut them down
like ripened grain without a thought.
Now that advantage overthrown
their charges were reduced to naught.
A commoner could kill a Lord
Whilst he still too far away
to use his lance or his long sword
The English archers won the day.
The rules of war were re arranged.
The bowman proved decisively.
The art of war forever changed.
The start of modern history.
Men could kill men now distantly
and very quickly gained in skill
To kill much more efficiently.
A skill men are improving still.
Man has progressed until today
He has the skill but lacks the will
to try and find a better way.
To settle disputes than to kill.
03/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Crashing Down
I've never see the sky like that
I can't believe that it could do that
I closed my eyes before the sun could set
I slept and waited for my, waited for my...
I waited for my dreams to land
I waited for my dreams to touch down
I waited patiently to hear the sound
I waited for the song to get me out, to get me out of
And I was up above
Watching myself crashing down
Yes I was up above
Watching myself crashing down
I've never seen so many lights
I've never heard so many voices
No one will tell me how I ended here
No one will tell me where, oh tell me where, oh tell me where I am
Where I am
And I was up above
Watching myself crashing down
Yes I was up above
Watching myself crashing down
Watching myself crashing down
Yes I was up above
Watching myself crashing down
Then I was up above
Watching myself crashing down
Watching myself crashing down
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angels
Take this man to prison, the man heard herod say,
And then four squads of soldiers came and carried him away.
Chained up between two watchmen, peter tried to sleep,
But beyond the walls an endless prayer was lifting for his keep.
Then a light cut through the darkness of a lonely prison cell,
And the chains that bound the man of God just opened up and fell,
And running to his people before the break of day,
There was only one thing on his mind, only one thing to say:
Angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!
God only knows the times my life was threatened just today.
A reckless car ran out of gas before it ran my way.
Near misses all around me, accidents unknown,
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home.
But I know theyre all around me all day and through the night.
When the enemy is closing in, I know sometimes they fight
To keep my fight from falling, Ill never turn away.
If youre asking whats protecting me then youre gonna hear me say:
Got his angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angles watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me....
Angels watching over me....
Angels watching over me.
Got his angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me!
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home....
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where all the poor in the village were buried?
Is this a cemetery?
The Gypsy Tinker, Negro Blacksmith, Grey-bearded Barber, One eyed Arabian butcher, Native Hangman & the family and the rest of all hide somewhere,
Nobody knows to point out so and so as no tombs were found there.
The flat graves show their innocence and poverty.
'Where is she? ' Hangman asks.
Butcher says; 'All are here brother and they are in a deep sleep.'
Hey! Now it's a playground for the children being a promise of the deceased dumb Mayor.
* Dedication to all the poet friends in the site.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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It's All About Skill
Early bird catches the worm
He swoops down so very low
How he'll wait for his pray
Proudly he steals the show
It's All About Skill
Painted face girl waits on street
Waiting for another to arrive
Carefully she will approach
And get the money she thieves
It's All About Skill
Those magic words you use
And how it takes sudden effect
So easy you capture the heart
Then leave it only with regret
It's All About Skill
poem by Suelynn Walters
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Fighting For Night
Sitting and watching the sun rise
knowing time is near
time to laugh
time to smile
time to cheer
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
over the puffy white clouds
over the bright blue sky
over a home town
Lyeing watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
down to the ground
down to the greenest of grass
down to meet your tears
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
up past the stars
up past the sun's lost glem
up to where it shins too full
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
not watching
not breathing
not hearing
not frowning
Swaying
Laughing from below
watching your body away
watching the rope in the moon light
watching gathering people
watching them cut you down
Laughing from below
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
Laughing from below
Laughing
from
below
poem by Kathlyn Grace
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