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She hauds up her head like a hen drinking water.
She hauds up her heid like a hen drinkin watter.
I can make dressing - or stuffing. Y'all call it stuffing up here, we call it dressing down there. It's really good dressing. That family recipe was passed on, and I love to make that.
quote by Edie Brickell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Storms Have Passed
the days are getting cloudy for me,
storm clouds over my head,
so dark, i can barely see,
the storms have passed by me.
the swetness of life, has passed me by,
of my life, the storms have went,
and i look forward to when i die,
the storms have passed me by.
of the Lord, i'll meet and see,
to be with Him, ever more,
and there, i'll never need to plea
the storms have passed by me.
The Beast 3
Storms of violence
Storms of lies
Storms of a family
with no friends
Just a street full of lies
with dead and decaying lives
They should have stopped
what they did know
because at the end of the day
they knew it was wrong
Life in prison
should give them time...
Time to think about
all the wrongs they did do
Because they won't ever
be going home again
The beast is gone
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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Manifesto
Blues are falling like showers of rain, but I dont feel like crying
Death himself is abroad this day, but I dont feel like dying
I learnt how to sustain myself
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
The enemy has the biggest tanks, and he sure knows how to use them
Our best, and only, chance, is to thoroughly confuse him
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
Her tongue was like a scythe and all her bones were haunted
A scapegoat for her life was all she ever wanted
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
Sir bedivere slept in a field, his armour strewn around him
Curled foetus-like beneath his shield, still weeping when we found him
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
I teetered on the edge of doom, degenerate and broken
She washed the blood out of my wounds, and spoke the great unspoken
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
His monstrous ego whipped and driven raged beneath his clothing
The complement he paid was given not with grace but loathing
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
Deliverance is at the gate with arms and gold in store
He apologises for being late, but I dont need him anymore
I learnt how to sustain myself
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
Scoured and stripped of all pretence, shorn of all illusion
I offer nothing in my defence, you can draw your own conclusions
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
(trans. sean miller - [email protected])
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enduring The Storms of Life
A petal falls from a
flower
quietly to the ground
a tree limb dries up
breaks off, falls away
enduring the storms
of life..
Ships sail off to sea
enduring many storms
along the way fights
to maintain
returning to port,
enduring the storms
of life...
poem by Heather Burns
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Storms In Africa: Part I (LP Version)
Roma Ryan
Though I walk through
warm sands in Africa
winds will grow soon
to storms in Africa.
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
will journey this way?
Dark skies fall on
black earth and ivory.
Far from your sun
clouds now close over me
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
will journey this way?
Storms have come!
rains wash the earth away
Dark skies fall down
into another day.
Rains have now come
from storms in Africa
Time will go on
through Storms in Africa
song performed by by Enya
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He who is always drinking and stuffing, will in time become a ragamuffin.
Storms In Africa - Part Ii
Though I walk through
Warm sands in africa
Winds will grow soon
To storms in africa.
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
Will journey this way?
Dark skies fall on
Black earth and ivory.
Far from your sun
Clouds now close over me.
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
Will journey this way?
Storms have come!
Rains wash the earth away
Dark skies fall down
Into another day.
Rains have now come
From storms in africa
Time will go on
Through storms in africa
song performed by by Enya
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weather Hurricane Storms With Good Friends
dark summer storm clouds encase dark horizons
dark summer storm clouds close lost horizons
season of summer storms sweeps in across seas
rains come storms come closing tourist beaches
cold rain hurricane storms threaten new floods
batten down windows close shut tight exit doors
good time to weather storms with life true friends
poem by Terence George Craddock
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After stuffing pears within, drink old wine until they swim.
Well-Adjusted- Don't Be-Brain-Stuffing
To be well adjusted
can be a terrible thing
for where am I to dream
what does not yet exist
if I am only focused
upon what currently is?
And where in this
is to come to be
Creativity?
It can be a terrible thing
to be adjusted
because the mind
becomes hard-wired
to only what we
have personally experienced-
when I am out to discover
what is different from me?
No small thing this:
sailors die on the open sea
because their hard-wired minds
think that they need to find land
for fresh-water
making them forget
that they can catch fish
and drink.
Adjusted means
thinking like all the others think
knowing they will punish those
who dare to utter something
different from the orthodoxy.
Takes a strong mind
and character
to really think
differently
from what the others
keep
saying you
should think.
Protect that brain:
don't let the others
fill it in
for you,
find your own stuffing
to put in there
after all
you have to
all your life
live with it.
So open up
the Brain-Door
spend at least
five hours
a day
day-dreaming
that is how the Brain
wards off
Brain-Stuffing.
This what Einstein did-
five hours a day
you can see
how good
he did.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Teddy Bear World ... 2
Fallen crashed banks
For rich ghosts gone poor now are
Stuffing deady bears
poem by Ken e Hall
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Smile On The Way Out
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
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Gigantic Moods
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cant Sleep
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silent Peaple
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ready For The Storm
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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