Related quotes
It is pleasant to cut thongs on another man's leather.
Broad thongs may be cut from other men's leather.
It is easy to cut thongs form other men's leather.
I ordered each man to be presented with something, as strings of ten or a dozen glass beads apiece, and thongs of leather, all which they estimated highly; those which came on board I directed should be fed with molasses.
quote by Christopher Columbus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hell Bent For Leather
Seek him here, seek him on the highway
Never knowing when hell appear
All await, engines ticking over
Hear the roar as they sense the fear
Wheels! a glint of steel and a flash of light!
Screams! from a streak of fire as he strikes!
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Black as night, faster than a shadowcrimson flare from a raging sun
An exhibition, of sheer precision
Yet no one knows from where he comes
Fools! self destruct cannot take that crown
Dreams! crash one by one to the ground
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Theres many who tried to prove that theyre faster
But they didnt last and they died as they tried
Theres many who tried to prove that theyre faster
But they didnt last and they died as they tried
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Venus In Furs
(reed)
Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Clubs and bells, your servant, dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart
Downy sins of streetlight fancies
Chase the costumes she shall wear
Ermine furs adorn the imperious
Severin, severin awaits you there
I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears
Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather
Shiny leather in the dark
Tongue of thongs, the belt that does await you
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart
Severin, severin, speak so slightly
Severin, down on your bended knee
Taste the whip, in love not given lightly
Taste the whip, now plead for me
I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears
Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Severin, your servant comes in bells, please dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A girl in leather shoes
I am a girl in leather shoes
without socks, a girl who has
no need of socks, a girl
who has few friends-
but doesn't need any.
A strong girl, with real opinions
in her head; sockless in her leather shoes,
a girl whose stride is purposeful,
feet secure inside the leather,
a girl who wears nothing artificial,
who takes in nothing not genuine-
And if she should ever sweat,
this brave, sockless girl,
who knows exactly where she is going
safe in her leather
and her strong opinions-
she would never, never let it show.
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My shoes
My shoes were brought to me on order
from Zimbabwe by a missionary,
a man who sell bibles
and sometimes give them away,
just before Robert Mugabe
did root out the manufacturers and sellers
and the rest of my order went to waste
with another pair of buffalo leather shoes
and a buffalo leather jacket as well.
The black handmade elephant leather shoes
do tread far roads with me,
they try to walk on the tracks
of my deceased father,
try to stand up with integrity
like my late grandmother wanted.
The other day I had them re-soled,
to lay down some more tracks
and the elephant leather
might last a life time
and I wonder how the future
folds open before them?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is easier to put leather on the soles of one's feet than cover the world with leather.
Leather Rebel
Hero of the night.
Blood and thunder rushing through me
Till the dawn of light
The sky is turning red
Like a renegade
All alone I walk through fire
Till I crash and blaze
I'm living on the edge
Start a chain reaction
Sears the neon light
Stealing all the action
Always takes the fight
Leather Rebel
Lightning in the dark
Leather Rebel
With a burning heart
Master of the streets
Bullet proof and bound for glory
Cities at my feet
I'm turning on the power
Running wild and free
No-one dares to stand before me
That's my destiny
To rule the darkest hours
I can see my future:
Writings on the wall
Legend in my lifetime
Stories will recall
Leather Rebel
Lightning in the dark
Leather Rebel
With a burning heart
I can see my future:
Writings on the wall
Legend in my lifetime
Stories will recall
Leather Rebel
Lightning in the dark
Leather Rebel
With a burning heart
Leather Rebel
song performed by by Judas Priest from Painkiller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I deliberately decided to write a kind of guide to leather bars for straight people, for people not into leather, so that people could see what it was all about.
Brunch in Tampa
Let's let the waiters have their say. Let's let
The ones who took the bus to set the silver
As you drove, who crossed the desert
Overnight, describe their versions of
Privation as you stuff your bloated face.
Let's let them ask how much you need.
Your hair is perfect, and your teeth.
Your house is large. You make a lot
Of money from your leather chair,
But you complain they're not enough.
You want for nothing, but for this:
Some proof that you and yours are
Grand, and all these others, unlike
You, are wretched, and always will be.
You cast about for confirmation.
Let the waiters say.
poem by Lawrence Beck
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Having conquered, tighten the thongs of your helmet.
Good thongs may be cut out of other people's hides.
Thongs don't show. With jeans, you're always going to get panty lines and I think that's just a big mistake.
The Shoes
The shoes were placed
row on row,
large and small,
some with laces,
some without,
black and brown.
If shoes could speak,
if their leather tongues
could pronounce words,
what hard histories
they could tell,
what deep sadness
they could relate,
and there at Auschwitz,
Anny Horowitz’s shoes
lay silent, cast off,
forcefully abandoned,
left to their fate,
no history told,
no biography to relate.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Contours For Gazing
He's the look of one who cuts his own hair.
The scar between his ears, broad,
stretches contours for gazing.
Something happened.
One cannot think ill of him who now
eschews any man with blade or shears,
his face is proof enough not to trust.
Still, he walks upon the world, a gash in air
which does not care for looks of any sort.
Frightened children do not cry out though
their play is stopped. Bullies cross the street,
heads low in leather, trying to be invisible.
Dogs suddenly silence remembering to
quickly go where their tucked tails point
- away.
Nothing can undo a look which undoes many.
He carries his book, large, heavy,
front cover turned into his tweed,
tucked under his arm, something
he can hide while the title he is screams.
He, like the dogs, is silent, he needs
speech no longer. People have not heard
him when he once did speak, do not hear
the loneliness, the moan his face has become
which is large, Biblical in proportion to
the grief he tucks beneath the other arm
and wishes no harm to the world.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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