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Suitcases Don't Have Wings
Small bags big bags
Black bags white bags
Suitcases hey hey hey
For work and for play
Crammed full of things
Suitcases dont have wings
White bags black bags
Complete with one-way tags
Dragging us down
Ever closer to the ground
All the time they sing
Suitcases dont have wings
Big bags small bags
That behind us we drag
Past present and future
We cram so much in n' gotcha
We've been forgetting
suitcases dont have wings
All bags every bag
That we painfully drag
Drop them at jesus feet
Cause all ur needs he'll meet
Suitcases hey hey hey
They get in the way
Drop them if you want in
Suitcases dont have wings
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once you get a spice in your home, you have it forever. Women never throw out spices. The Egyptians were buried with their spices. I know which one I'm taking with me when I go.
quote by Erma Bombeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Spices
Of the spices of life,
Of the spices of love,
Of the spices of peace,
Of the spices of my mind,
Life in Africa maters to me lot.
Of Black Cumin,
Of Red Peppercorns,
Of Black Mustard,
Of Cayenne Pepper,
Of White Mustard,
Of Mixed Peppercorns,
Of Mahaleb Cherry,
Of Szechuan pepper,
Almost everybody is with a mobile phone in Africa!
But strong alcohol are consumed daily by the majority unemployed.
In Africa,
My mind sits and writes;
Because, life in Africa matters to me a lot.
Of Coriander, Ground Ginger, Fenugreek, Turmeric and Paprika!
Like the struggles daily in Africa for a survival;
But one day, we will get there.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Round and Round
After a long and wretched flight
That stretched from daylight into night,
Where babies wept and tempers shattered
And the plane lurched and whiskey splattered
Over my plastic food, I came
To claim my bags from Baggage Claim
Around, the carousel went around
The anxious travelers sought and found
Their bags, intact or gently battered,
But to my foolish eyes what mattered
Was a brave suitcase, red and small,
That circled round, not mine at all.
I knew that bag. It must be hers.
We hadnt met in seven years!
And as the metal plates squealed and clattered
My happy memories chimed and chattered.
An old man pulled it of the Claim.
My bags appeared: I did the same.
poem by Vikram Seth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Punching bag..
Have a few friends, is good,
Be attached with our relatives, is the best,
because we can make them,
the punching bags.
quiet punching bags,
listening punching bags,
tolerant punching bags and
comforting punching bags.
They are just a call away,
call them with confidence,
talk to them,
we are happy and no stress.
They are just a call away,
call them with confidence,
share your thoughts,
only to people, trustworthy.
Stay alone not good,
be a punching bag,
to others. Listen to them,
there will no stressed out people,
loose on the roads,
tears in the eyes,
clouds in the brain,
betrayal in the heart,
looking for booze and drugs.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Diversity Spices Communities
simplicity and complexity
embraces in diversity...
diversity spices globally
diversity individuality polarity
diversity spices community...
diversity flavours humanity
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You've Been Booted So Scoot
Mismatchd mates fight.
In arguments..
Over who did what wrong.
Inspite of who is right.
And which one makes more sense...
To convince the one incensed!
Both are stubborn infidels,
Yelling to end a relationship...
That has been sitting precariously,
On a dubious fence.
While anyone listening in on this,
Wishes they both shut up.
And seal their lips.
Instead of making loud noises.
And breaking up stuff in fits.
Anyone listening to this nonsense sits down.
Or creeps to the wall without making a sound.
To hear very carefully...
With hopes the floor doesn't creek.
As they tip toe around...
To get their ears close as possible,
To what is near...
And going down!
'I saw you cheating on me,
With that home wrecker living across the street.
If you believe that sleaze is better...
You can get up from here and leave.'
~You aint my momma or my poppa.
Stop trying to control everything I do.
I'm not the one pleasured in midnight specials.
The dogs and cats know that rat is you! ~
*ooo...ssshhh.
This is juicy.*
~You don't have the authority,
To tell me what I can't do.
I will do what I please!
Your booty aint that good to screw! ~
*Lawd!
Now YOU know...
When the booty aint right,
That starts a fight.
ooo...this is juicy*
~If anyone here is going to get up and leave...
You're the one that's going to do it.
And if you don't,
I'll call the police.
And when they arrive...
I'll lie to say you've been hitting on me.~
*Lie-uh! *
~Pack your bags!
I've had it.
Pack your bags!
I've had it.
Pack your bags!
I've had it.
You've been booted,
So scoot.
Pack.
Your.
Bags...
I've had it.
Pack your bags!
I've had it.
Pack your bags!
I've had it.
You've been booted,
So scoot.
There is nothing to revisit.
And there is nothing to renew.
So pack.
Your.
Bags...
I've had it.
Pack your bags!
I've had it.
Pack your bags!
I've had it.
You've been booted,
So scoot.
There is nothing to revisit.
And there is nothing to renew.
You and and I are finished...
And that door you're going through!
So pack.
Your.
Bags...
I've had it.
Pack your bags!
I've had it.
Pack your bags!
I've had it.
You've been booted,
So scoot!
You don't have to bother,
To put on your shoes.
Just pack your bags.
I've had it.
Get up and get out.
You've been booted,
So scoot! ~
*Don't you dare!
I wont get this excitement anywhere.*
**Horace...
Will you come from over there,
And sit down!
You are worse than you say,
My nosy friends are! **
*Sssshhh...*
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Samsonite Man
I don't wanna do this over and over
(verse 1)
He's a man so full of style and grace
Any woman being impressed
Takes a smile and paints it on your face
Makes you feel like you've been blessed
Promises things so special
Seems to come right from a song
Soon as you begin to feel secure
Turn around and he is gone
(chorus)
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go
Packing his bags,gotta go
He's a Samsonite Man
(verse 2)
Maybe he is just a rollin stone
Wandering from here to there
Searching for a place to call his home
Wonder if he even cares
So many years of heartache and pain
That's all you seem to know him for
Is it you, or is it he to blame?
Whenever he walks out your door
(chorus)
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go
Packing his bags,gotta go
He's a Samsonite Man
Where you're always running to, away from me?
(bridge)
If the wind blows you in my direction
You'd come through the rendezvous
Forget about your good attention
Leave me lonely and confused
Mr.Samsonite pack a bag
That is my suggestion
From here on out you will be leaving
My discretion yeah
So I know the game baby
And it will never be the same (no no no no no)
cause now I got him
(chorus)
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go (Now you gotta go)
Packing his bags,gotta go (I can't take it no more)
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go (What do I love him for)
Packing his bags,gotta go
He's a Samsonite Man
Why don't you just go
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, woah woah yeah yeah
You can't hurt me no more baby
You can't touch me
You can't hurt me no more baby
Gotta go, gotta go
Pack your bag, pack it up
Gotta go, hit the road Jack
You ain't gotta go home, but you can get the hell outta here
song performed by by Alicia Keys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Handed
Here I am, take me
It's easier to give in no oo woo oo woo oo o
Some people mistake me
They only hear what they want to hear
If you're losing sleep, forgive me
I just can't keep pretending
I'm packing my bags 'cause I don't wanna be
The only one who's drowning in their misery
And I'll take that chance 'cause I just wanna breathe
And I won't look back and wonder how it's supposed to be
How it's supposed to be ho woo
There's a prism by the window
It lets the light leak in no oo woo oo woo oo o
I wish you would let me
You feel the water but do you swim mm mm oh oo oh oo woo oo oh
And it's only me, empty handed
With a childish grin, and a camera
I'm packing my bags 'cause I don't wanna be
The only one who's drowning in their misery
And I'll take that chance 'cause I just wanna pray
And I won't look back and wonder how it's supposed to be
How it's supposed to be ho woo woo
How it's supposed to be
La da, n da, n da n da n da
La da, n da, n da n da aye, aye
La da n da n da n da aye aye
La da n da n da
La da, n da, n da n da n da
La da, n da, n da n da aye, aye
La da n da n da n da aye aye
La da n da n da
Well I'm packing my bags 'cause I don't wanna be
The only one who's drowning in their misery
And I'll take that chance 'cause I just wanna breathe
And I won't look back and wonder how it's supposed to be
How it's supposed to be
Tell me how it's supposed to be
Tell me how, tell me how, tell me how it's supposed to be
Ohh oo woo ho oo oh, ho oo woo ho oo woo
Only one, the only one who's drowning in their misery
'Cause I'm packing my bags
'Cause I'm packing my bags
And I won't be back
Yeah eh yeah
Packing my bags 'cause I don't want to be Ohh oo woo, yeah eh yeah
song performed by by Michelle Branch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Share your M&Ms. There are bags and bags of them all over the place. If you give them one of yours, even one of the green ones, you will not be lacking. Honust Injun. Now apply this to Time, Concern, Touch, Interest and Being Vulnerable.
quote by Hugh Elliott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epiphanias
THE three holy kings with their star's bright ray,--
They eat and they drink, but had rather not pay;
They like to eat and drink away,
They eat and drink, but had rather not pay.
The three holy kings have all come here,
In number not four, but three they appear;
And if a fourth join'd the other three,
Increased by one their number would be.
The first am I,--the fair and the white,
I ought to be seen when the sun shines bright!
But, alas! with all my spices and myrrh,
No girl now likes me,--I please not her.
The next am I,--the brown and the long,
Known well to women, known well to song.
Instead of spices, 'tis gold I bear,
And so I'm welcome everywhere.
The last am I,--the black and small,
And fain would be right merry withal.
I like to eat and to drink full measure,
I eat and drink, and give thanks with pleasure.
The three holy kings are friendly and mild,
They seek the Mother, and seek the Child;
The pious Joseph is sitting by,
The ox and the ass on their litter lie.
We're bringing gold, we're bringing myrrh,
The women incense always prefer;
And if we have wine of a worthy growth,
We three to drink like six are not loth.
As here we see fair lads and lasses,
But not a sign of oxen or asses,
We know that we have gone astray
And so go further on our way.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Gone
hey, come in here for a minute
sit down
come here, cuz we gotta talk, ok
well, u just stay here for a little bit tonight
man, i need to go to sleep
yo, i want you try to understand somethin, ok?
now, just listen
And then again
You know I try to make it work,
but you and I
seems like I was always by myself
Like you didn't ever, ever wanna help
the strain you put on me, you let me down
can you tell me why, after all I've done for you and us
You know, I hate to say it, but I gotta tell you som'
I think I better leave you alone
So get your bags and get the hell on
see, because I don't want you no more
I don't want you no more
I think you better leave me alone
So get your bags, get the hell on, get gone
because love ain't here no more
I don't know if it hurts to hear me say all of these words,
but then again, I guess by now, I really don't care
Always thought that it could work
thought it could be, baby you and me
tell me, what happened to us?
Wait a minute, don't speak
Right now all I wanna see is you leavin
Leave me alone
Get your bags, get the hell on
Cuz I don't want you no more
Said I think you better leave me alone
Get your bags, get the hell on
Cuz love ain't here no more
See, I tried to do it right
Tried to make you see the light
All that I wanted, All that I needed, was you in my life
Havin broke down and for what?
Changed so many times, forgot who the real me was
But it's alright, I said it's cool
(wind down
song performed by by Ideal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bags Of Fun With Buster
Performed by johnny japes and his jesticles. recorded for viz
Comics, written and produced by andy partridge, neville farmer,
And dave gregory, and featuring john otway.
Whos that dragging what looks like a pink sack of spanners down the road?
His swollen folly on a supermarket trolley to alleviate the load
Testicular tomfoolery
To the rescue of humanity
It looks a lot of balls to me
Fun and japes and merry frolics
With buster gonads bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Whos that lad with his cobblers clad in a disguise of some form?
When the cosmic power of a meteorite shower made them swell beyond the norm
Now here he comes to save mankind
His enormous nuts not far behind
And theyre not the salted kind
He cures mutes and alcoholics
When they first see his bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Theres bags of fun with buster
See them shine with evil lustre
Buster! watch out for that revolving door
Ooh buster! they look so incredibly sore
Buster! especially as you drag them through that powerful
Cleaning agent someone spilled upon the floor
Ooh buster! why do you let your sack swing so low?
Sax swing solo? yeah!
Fun and japes and merry frolics
With buster gonads bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Doctor who could defeat the daleks
If he had busters swinging space age . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his double sputnik thruster
Bags of fun with buster
Just to stroke them would disgust her
Bags of fun with buster
If she held them would you trust her?
Bags of fun with buster
Loads more balls than general custer
Bags of fun with buster
Lots more scrots than you could muster
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shopping Bags
I hate these shopping bags
They weigh my body down
They keep me on the beaten track
They break every bone in my back
To a doctor's note i must defer
My life, I do concur
For what may be must be
And what may not be cannot see
I'll throw away my shopping bags
And see how far you throw me
To Guava, Java, Bali, Mali
To study, to lecture, to teach, to hurt
To suckle the teat of wisdom that does not exist
But whatever the sucklers say
The revolution has begun
It is within our hearts and minds
Because if one human, not a man nor a woman
Can preach like John Paul to mass
Like Darwin to a class
Like Kennedy to a nation
Like King for a tiny piece of salvation
Then we can all dropp our shopping bags
poem by Matt Pocock
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Unto my Books—so good to turn
604
Unto my Books—so good to turn—
Far ends of tired Days—
It half endears the Abstinence—
And Pain—is missed—in Praise—
As Flavors—cheer Retarded Guests
With Banquettings to be—
So Spices—stimulate the time
Till my small Library—
It may be Wilderness—without—
Far feet of failing Men—
But Holiday—excludes the night—
And it is Bells—within—
I thank these Kinsmen of the Shelf—
Their Countenances Kid
Enamor—in Prospective—
And satisfy—obtained—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The brown bag, of course, had its imperfections. While some kids carried roast beef sandwiches, others had peanut butter. I have no way of knowing if all of those brown bags contained 'nutritionally adequate diets.' But I do know that those brown bags and those lunch pails symbolized parental love and responsibility.
quote by Charles Mathias, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Comin Into Los Angeles
Coming in from london from over the pole
Flying in a big airliner
Chicken flying everywhere around the plane
Could we ever feel much finer
Coming into los angeles
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Theres a guy with a ticket to mexico
Could he ever look much stranger
Walking in the hall with his things and all
Smiling, said he was the lone ranger
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Hip woman walking on a moving floor
Tripping on the escalator
Theres a man in the line, and shes blowing his mind
Thinking that hes already made her
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Island Fever
Island fever
I think Ive got a touch of island fever
I do believe I feel a bit sauteed
This morning I was just some nonbeliever
Tonight I feel Ive joing a wild crusade
I never thought of life as being breezy
I never thought of time as time to play
I never thought that I could take it easy
But all those feelings changed for me today
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Are finding their way to my brain
Layers and layers of costumes and players
That make my whole life look insane
Palm trees and views I cant believe
Why would I ever want to leave?
I think Ill take my shoes off and go walking
Down beside the caribbean sea.
I like the funny sounds of parrots squawking
I think I hear a hammock calling me.
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
I think Ive got a touch of island fever...
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Talk
Its not the chapters he reads when youre feeling low down
Its not the touch of his skin when you kiss him goodnight
Its not the money he spends when you want to buy a daydream
And not that miracle smile that makes the sky bright
Its not the way his hands behave
When youve turned out the light
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you want to fly, yes it does
Its not the way he believes in you like a religion
Its not the thrill that you get when hes holding you tight
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen (just like that)
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
Information, heart and soul, a whisper, a word
Confessions that have to be heard
Small small talk
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you make it rock so heavenly
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you seem to talk so heavenly
Big words...
Small talk...
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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