Indecision is like the stepchild: if he doesn't wash his hands, he is called dirty; if he does, he is wasting the water.
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Indecision is like a stepchild: if he does not wash his hands, he is called dirty, if he does, he is wasting water.
Indecision is like a stepchild if he does not wash his hands, he is called dirty, if he does, he is wasting water.
A slave boy is blamed no matter what he does: If he does not wash his hands, he is accused of being dirty. If he washes his hands, he is accused of wasting water.
She is as undecided as an orphan: if she does not wash her hands, she will be told that she is a dirty child; if she washes her hands she will be told that she is wasting water.
Survial.
Water comes from the river origin is clean,
I wash my head.
Water comes from the river branch is dirty,
I wash my feet.
Oh sure, when water in the pool is clean,
I jump in to swim.
But, when the pool is dirty, I leave at once,
And quit my job.
Oh who’s the original source not let me clean?
Keep my head and body clean without water?
How can I keep my head clean in the river?
How can I keep my body clean in a pool?
What is going on about the water?
How could I live in this world?
poem by Albert Wong
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Wash It Down
I'magine all the words we're spitting
would be killing inside
being trapped in a jungle
be cool don't fight
there are no enemies no justice
but now you need revenge
everytime I show my faces
to earn your respect
I'm an absolute beginner
she's an absolute beginner
but I can't do with it
she can't do with it
I wash it you kick it and spoil it with dirt
nevermind I've got two faces and one of it hurts
What a dirty shirt (x6)
Wash it down
And when you roam with the storm
I'm coming your way
noone can stop me
it's the upcoming day
which shows you the thruth
and then your life gets confused
you might wash a white shirt without my lust
I'm an absolute sinner
she's an absolute sinner
and I need to commit
she needs to commit
I wash it you kick it and spoil it with dirt
nevermind I've got two faces and one of it hurts
What a dirty shirt (x8)
Wash it down
Wash it (x10)
Wash it down
Wash it down
Wash it down
My dirty shirt
Wash it down
(repeat)
Hey
Wash it down
WASH IT DOWN
Aieee (x2)
Yeah yeah yeah
I wash it (x5)
WASH IT (x2)
song performed by by Guano Apes from Proud Like A God
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Need Water
Scorching hot summer’s day
Devastation struck on our holiday.
Water, water running out
No more water left about.
Where is water?
What to do?
Stressing, thirsty, hungry too.
Need a shower!
Need a drink!
But there is no time to think.
Running, running to the store
“No more water” written on the door.
I need water, but there’s none,
Definitely not having fun.
Feeling dirty!
Feeling sick!
Needing something so basic.
Water, water I need you
Then I’ll be as good as new.
Water, water always there,
Once it’s gone we’re made aware
Wasting water is not right
Now it’s gone I’ve seen the light.
I need water to survive
I’m lucky to be alive!
poem by Salvatore Mazzeo
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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
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If You Want To Become Obese, Catch A Cold (Fun Poem 37)
According to a news story, I read yesterday.
Every time to cough or sneeze,
you put on an extra pound or two.
According to the scientists, obesity can be party blamed
to the good old common cold.
Now if their figures are right
I should be weighing in at about ten tons by now,
as I rarely seem to be without a cold,
spring summer, winter or fall.
Mind you, it would help to explain
why people remark that my wife
seems a lot shorter than I do.
She is standing in my footprints,
which make potholes wherever I go.
However, it gets better than that;
they say the virus is transmitted through our dirty hands.
I am assuming they want us to wash
our hands every five minutes of the day.
In that case, we should carry a bowl of water
around our necks, with a bar of soap and some disposable towels.
You have to laugh at this though.
I remember a few years ago the self same scientists
sent a troupe of scouts away for a month and told them not to wash.
When they came back dirty from head to foot,
the scientist declared they had fewer germs
on them than someone who showered every day.
Now they are telling us dirty hands help us catch colds and obesity.
So we can forget about the diets and the expensive gyms.
All we have to beware of is the common cold,
of which they have never found a cure for,
because if we catch one you can stack on the pounds.
You may even become like me a ten-ton weakling!
poem by David Harris
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Wasting Time
in between dim hours
in between dull days
i'm out counting flowers
i'm still chasing faith
mistake me for a pilot
mistake me for a face you know
consider this old conscience
let no trouble come my way
wasting time, you'd understand
wasting time
wasting time, we'll make our plans
wasting time
it's you alone i wish to free
on you alone i'll focus
it's not the change i wish to believe
this coming of the locusts
skipping like a skimming stone
skimming the bad chapters
swimming thru your tides alone
swimming on your laughter, we're after
wasting time, you'd understand
wasting time
wasting time, let's take the chance
wasting time
you and i, we understand
time is not for making
but just because we don't have a clue
doesn't mean we're faking, we're wasting
wasting time, you'd understand
wasting time
wasting time, we'll make our plans
wasting time
song performed by by Zwan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Void
I've seen so many faces
These hands have lied before
I've kissed so many lips it's blocked my mind
I've whispered bullshit, nothings
I've cried alone in night
I thought I'd found the one a million times
But doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you in my heart?
And doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you?
I let a stranger love me
I gave away my pride
I bit my lips, so I could block my mind
I've called your name to others
Just like a spinal chord
Severed and broken but the spark still tries
And doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you in my heart?
Doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the noise?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you?
They don't know you like I do
They don't see the good inside you
They don't lie with you in bed and join you when you're dreaming
They don't see your softer side
Who'll be there to turn your light on?
Who will try to wash away the stain that love has left us?
Doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone kill the place of you in my heart?
Doesn't anyone bring the noise?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you?
song performed by by Darren Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waterborne love with Neptune’s Daughter
I’m goin’ wash you
right outa my hair
I’m goin ‘to wash you right outa’
this torrid affair,
I’m goin’ wash my hands
of you untrue
Once made my mouth water,
the likes of you,
You held my love like water
on a ducks back
You conniving water nymph
dressed in black,
Plying your waterborne love,
in you I did trust
Lying on your waterbed
goading my lust,
My God I knew this would
not hold water
Are you really the delinquent
Neptune’s daughter,
Swimming off with that
water canon hulk
Hope your water course leads
to the Isle of Sulk.
Now I feel like a water holding
frog waiting for rain
To swim in rivers of
love again and again,
With my tear filled water pistol
I’ll aim at you,
To water you down,
finally meeting your Waterloo.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can I Dry Clean?
washing the clean linen in dirty water,
makes the clothes to be dirty and colored,
white clothe will invite the color of contrast,
color of the water that it is dipped into.
When we think of the ills and manipulate with evils,
the souls that are born white, will be colored,
when we wash the evil thoughts in evil solutions,
our souls will be soiled, colored and in illusion.
believing the color that we possess is the brightest,
If it is the brightest of white, as white is pure,
then it is all right, even if we are in other colors,
don't worry, it can be bleached to white.
White and black are two extreme colors,
with extreme characters and properties,
when the white reflects everything as good actions,
the black absorbs everything as the mother nature.
Between these two colors,
there are thousands of colors,
blending of seven colors of rain bow,
where we live and be happy and sorrow.
Washing the clean linen of any color,
in the water of dirt and sediment,
will make the linen dirty and soiled,
Where shall we find the clean water,
to wash our dirty souls of multiple colors?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Dirty Laundry Poem
This is the dirty laundry poem-
because we have traveled from town to town
accumulating soiled linen & sweaty shirts
& blue-jeans caked & clotted with our juice
& teeshirts crumpled by our gloriously messy passion
& underwear made stiff by all our joy.
I have come home to wash my clothes.
They patter on the bathroom floor like rain.
The water drips away the days till you.
The dirty water speaks to me of love.
Steamy in the bubbles of our love,
I have plunged my hands into hot water
as I might plunge them
in your heart.
After years of spots & splatters,
I am finally coming clean.
I will fly to you with a suitcase of fresh laundry,
strip my clothes off, heap them on the floor,
& let you scrub my body with your love.
poem by Erica Jong
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Art of Water
whether lot, whether little
whether cold, whether hot
whether thirst, whether not
water is always needed
whether clean, whether dirty
in the land, in the ocean
whether flood, whether dry
water is always problem
rain river, static puddle
hidden in the desert, moist in the forest
frost on mountain, vapor to clouds
water is everywhere
playable, making war
doesn't have taste, doesn't have color
you can live or you can die
water is sign of life
the element, the anomaly
build energy, fill the body
the circle, the reflection
water is word of power
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Dirty Water
Baby-every time you think- you're thinking
dirty and low down, baby if you don't pull yourself
out of that-dirty water, then you're gonna drown.
Baby you're in that dirty water
and you're sinking, baby its all because of
your dirty thinking-
Baby its easy- to go crazy-when you lose
your mind, baby just-
get out of that- dirty water
and leave all that dirt behind-
poem by Dorsey Baker
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The Water
Quicksand, my heart is sinking
I try to run but I can't stop thinking
I'm climbin' walls, I'm on the ceilin'
Its gonna take a miracle to heal me
I'm starin' down into the quarry
I see a stone for every sorry
I'm on the edge, I'm goin under
And after I die I'm gonna rise from the water
I wanna blast off,
let gravity dissapear
I'm tired of fallin, fallin, fallin
from the weight of fear
Come and lift me up
into the clean and clear
I'm waitin' on you Jesus in the water here
So come and wash me clean
The sky is red, there's blood on my hands
Cant deny, you're clear where I stand
The burn of sin, I hear them shoutin'
Send me a river to drown this mountain
(Repeat Chorus)
Wash me clean...
Let it wash me, let is wash me, let it wash me clean
(Repeat Chorus)
I wanna blast off,
let gravity dissapear
Come and lift me up,
into the clean and clear
Let it wash me, let it wash me, let it wash me clean
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Frogs
There you are
Infected with the water strain
Wash your car
Fish and thoughts come screaming down like rain
There you are
Wash your hands and wash your face
Waters gone
Its vaporized and gone to outer space
Im lookin at the sky
Im waitin on the rain
Im waitin for the frogs to fall
Down on me
song performed by by Flaming Lips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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War Widow
Idling in the queue at the car wash, waiting for baptism and a clean car, mulling over the sins of the past few weeks since the last call, watching the not-too-dirty drivers in front of me paying for a clean slate, I wait, re-think, can’t pull out of the line, trapped between the casual owners whose consciences wear a little city grime, I must look terrible, caked in muddy thoughts and impure intentions, not even sure I have the money to pay the ferryman to get me to the other side of the sprayers, brushes, wipers, blowers, foam, wax, and absolution. It might be easier to get a new car. The other he was with me when husband called. Then I heard no more, until they came to the door, this sombre notice, in my hand, giving it to the car wash attendant, who doesn’t seem to understand, he’s dead, I say, leaving it with him, car unwashed, I drive away.
poem by David E. Oprava
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