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God has spared the naked man from washing his clothes with soap.
Brain Washing
Ooh-ooh
Old mr. joe, he build a house away
On top of some hill
Old mr. joe knew he had to go, so he
He got right down and wrote bank will
He say now, heres to mother hen
And her chicken, lord have mercy now
Master, will you take a roll in the mud
Like you know you should?
The old barnyard, the old barnyard
Birds and the chick, ooh-wee
Whos got to watch out for brother mongoose
With his top hap and walking-stick?
Its just the poors brain washing
(poors ...) they told me a long time ago,
Its just the poors brain washing, ooh-wee
(poors brain washing) now look at a thing like this
Cinderella and her long lost fellow
In the midnight hour, she lost her silver slipper
Humpty dumpty sat on a wall
While jack and jill had themselves a fall
Its just the poors (... brain washing)
And I dont need it no longer (... washing)
Its just the poors brain washing
Coming through to a poor mans child, ooh-wee, look at this
Little miss muffet she sat on a tuffet
While little red riding hood delivered her grandmoms food
Ooh-wee ooh-wee
Ooh-wee, look at one more thing like this
The cow jumping over the moon
While the dish got jealous, he grabbed the handy spoon
Its just the poors brain washing
And I dont need it no longer, I dont want it no longer
I dont need it no longer (...washing)
And I dont care for no more brain washing (... washing) ...
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mothers Lament
(traditional)
Are we rolling? a one, a two, a three, a four...
A mother was washing her baby one night;
The youngest of ten and a delicate mite.
The mother was poor and the baby was thin;
twas naught but a skeleton covered with skin.
The mother turned round for a soap off the rack.
She was only a moment but when she turned back
Her baby had gone, and in anguish she cried,
Oh, where has my baby gone? the angels replied:
Oh, your baby has gone down the plug hole.
Oh, your baby has gone down the plug.
The poor little thing was so skinny and thin,
He should have been washed in a jug, in a jug.
Your baby is perfectly happy;
He wont need a bath anymore.
Hes a-muckin about with the angels above,
Not lost but gone before.
Do you want to do it again?
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mothers Lament
(traditional)
Are we rolling? a one, a two, a three, a four...
A mother was washing her baby one night;
The youngest of ten and a delicate mite.
The mother was poor and the baby was thin;
twas naught but a skeleton covered with skin.
The mother turned round for a soap off the rack.
She was only a moment but when she turned back
Her baby had gone, and in anguish she cried,
Oh, where has my baby gone? the angels replied:
Oh, your baby has gone down the plug hole.
Oh, your baby has gone down the plug.
The poor little thing was so skinny and thin,
He should have been washed in a jug, in a jug.
Your baby is perfectly happy;
He wont need a bath anymore.
Hes a-muckin about with the angels above,
Not lost but gone before.
Do you want to do it again?
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Romeo and Juliet
If you will die for me,
I will die for you
and our graves will be like two lovers washing
their clothes together
in a laundromat
If you will bring the soap
I will bring the bleach.
poem by Richard Brautigan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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People used to complain that selling a president was like selling a bar of soap. But when you buy soap, at least you get the soap. In this campaign you just get two guys telling you they really value cleanliness.
quote by David Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perhaps This Way
perhaps in this way
as i take you into so much
familiarity
i may soon forget you
and so i take you like i am
having breakfast
and lunch and dinner
like i am washing my face
and feet
or my having to take a bath
everyday
every night
like you are water and soap to
my existence
but to no avail
you are still a diamond ring
kept so near
to the beatings of my
lousy heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lamentable Decisions for a Vegan
While shopping,
I went to the bathroom, but
Before washing my hands, I
Found that their soap was
Scented by honey
And contained animal
By-products.
Now, I'm standing
In front of the sink,
Deliberating about
Which code of ethics
Is better for me to break
In the moment.
Choices, choices.
Why must I have these choices?
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Irresponsibility
give me a basin of water
also a bar of soap
i am washing my hands
let the voice
of the people decide
the faith of the
good, the bad,
and the ugly....
i am tired of all these
let me have some sleep
let morality decide upon itself
let religion be religion
let freedom be freedom unto itself
without us?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keep It Clean
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
So hard they've tried to reflect perfection.
A wholesome outlook,
With good deeds done they do!
They want to project a godlike self righteousness.
With wings adorned and hymns sung!
Angelic voices from everyone,
Harmonizing,
In collective united bliss.
But the truth about this...
There is BS that sits within their midst,
And not one of them can resist
An addicting sniff!
Since they are all full of it!
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Something kept stinking...
From fat greasy meat.
Suited and smoking cigars,
Chartering planes with high profiled stars.
And posing with those who piloted...
The sucking up of all resources.
As admirers rejoiced!
Thinking they heard 'voices' from beyond...
'You too could live like this!
We'll make sure of it! '
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Screwing fools!
'Keep it clean! '
That's what they do best!
'Keep the scene serene.
Deodorize the stench that leaks.
Protect that image.
And hide the blood left...
To leave as expected on urban streets! '
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
By the time it surfaces...
There will be nothing left to squander.
And the fools we duped with treason,
Will have nothing left to value...
And very little to say!
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clean Like That
Freedom from dirt is of washing up,
Spreading the tablecloth and being fine.
Use the handkerchief on the people who work,
A tainted one shall require us to laugh aloud.
It is not one hundred percent, not entire,
To jostle and abhor the freedmen.
We are polished from good soap,
Snowy and sought by men and women.
This place is dewy and fresher than most,
As much as a daisy, and no longer a creature.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waterfall
(carly simon)
Somethings going down like a waterfall
Some strong feelings some old love
I saw you and it made no sense at all
Now I feel like theres too much caffeine in my blood
Like a waterfall goin down
Like a waterfall washing me down
Spinnin me around
Lord, and Im drownin
Like a waterfall going down
Just like a waterfall washing me down
Like a waterfall going down and down and down
Youre an old lover making new contact
Making those cold defenses melt
And though lying in your arms is after the fact
Once again Im feeling like Ive never felt
Its like a waterfall going down
Like a waterfall washing me down
Spinninme round
Lord, and Im drowning
Like a waterfall going down
Just like a waterfall washing me down
Like a waterfall going down and down and down
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All the Faith
He has a religion for all the faith,
Ours for the taking, ours for the right.
May we ascertain properly,
With learned men see the light.
The bubbles of words come from our mouths
Like soap and liquid, and all things about washing,
Cleaning us all with phrases of joy and harmony.
A custom breathed is a custom of sincerity,
You must take your faith and then reveal
To the people what is in their breaths,
And what minds offer in the form of questions
And answers.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take Me To The River
I dont know why I love her like I do
All the changes you put me through
Take my money, my cigarettes
I havent seen the worst of it yet
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Take me to the river, dip me in the water
Washing me down, washing me down
I dont know why you treat me so bad
Think of all the things we could have had
Love is an ocean that I cant forget
My sweet sixteen I would never regret
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Push me in the river, dip me in the water
Washing me down, washing me
Hug me, squeeze me, love me, tease me
Till I cant, till I cant, till I cant take no more of it
Take me to the water, drop me in the river
Push me in the water, drop me in the river
Washing me down, washing me down
I dont know why I love you like I do
All the troubles you put me through
Sixteen candles there on my wall
And here am I the biggest fool of them all
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river and drop me in the water
Dip me in the river, drop me in the water
Washing me down, washing me down.
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Candidates For Senator
To flatter your way to the goad of your hope,
O plausible Mr. Perkins,
You'll need ten tons of the softest soap
And butter a thousand firkins.
The soap you could put to a better use
In washing your hands of ambition
Ere the butter's used for cooking your goose
To a beautiful brown condition.
'The Railroad can't run Stanford.' That is so
The tail can't curl the pig; but then, you know,
Inside the vegetable-garden's pale
The pig will eat more cabbage than the tail.
When Sargent struts by all the lawmakers say:
'Right-left!' It is fair to infer
The right will get left, nor polar the day
When he makes that thing to occur.
Not so, not so, 'tis a joke, that cry
Foolish and dull and small:
He so bores them for votes that they mean to imply
He's a drill-Sargent, that is all.
Gods! what a sight! Astride McClure's broad back
Estee jogs round the Senatorial track,
The crowd all undecided, as they pass,
Whether to cheer the man or cheer the ass.
They stop: the man to lower his feet is seen
And the tired beast, withdrawing from between,
Mounts, as they start again, the biped's neck,
And scarce the crowd can say which one's on deck.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soap opera wouldn't be my first choice, but at this point in my life, I would consider a soap. It would allow me to act and still do other things with my life.
Conduct
No matter who we are,
All of us are judged...
Based upon our conduct.
And no distance is diminished,
By our conduct.
We can attempt to cover it,
But it's our conduct.
That beats most of us up!
No matter if we're rich or poor...
With doors gold plated or cardboard,
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
But it's our conduct.
That beats most of us up!
We have those moods and attitudes,
But what we do is not excused...
If conduct,
Is not a pleasantry that's seen.
If conduct,
Is perceived to be one mean.
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
And it is conduct.
That beats us up!
No matter if we're kind,
Most of the time.
And most of the time,
We show we are kind!
No matter if we're rich or poor...
With doors gold plated or cardboard,
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
But it's our conduct.
That beats most of us up!
We have those moods and attitudes,
But what we do is not excused...
If conduct,
Is not a pleasantry that's seen.
If conduct,
Is perceived to be one mean.
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
And it is conduct.
That beats us up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Austerity
My mobile phone rings twice!
I took and it's a familiar voice.
'Hey! I am close to your heart
And see I am behind you.'
I looked around but nobody's seen.
'May I know your good name please? '
'It's me your breath Catherine
And you're my poor Peter the Great.
I can see you wear a Red T shirt my poor Socialist
And a blue denim patches here & there my Capitalist Rasputin.
Not only that my Sweetheart
We missed our scanty breakfast
I can see you are without the underpant
And I saw it's on the washing basin
Darling we're poor lovers with borrowed smiles.'
I heard she laughed and she's kidding me
My beloved!
A humble dedication to the poetess Fay slimm in gratitude!
* 'True affluence is not needing anything.' -Gary Snyder
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I have also just finished three weeks on a soap opera in England. The soap opera is a rather famous one called Crossroads. It was first on television 25 years ago, and it has recently been brought back. I play the part of a businessman called David Wheeler.
quote by Jeremy Bulloch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Captivated Is The Audience
Something occurs,
And from minds can not be excused.
Comments made by those thought elite...
Seem very disconnected from humanity.
'We're concerned about the little people.'
Says one sent to speak and represents sleaze.
'Those people' who initiate wickedness...
To leave it and deceive.
Those who use treachery to bleed the Earth.
And yacht about with venom dripping,
From privileged mouths.
Are about to be themselves seized with grief.
Something occurs,
And from minds can not be excused.
Comments made by those thought elite...
Seem very disconnected from humanity.
And this has been made clear,
To every aspect that makes life a possibility.
When leechers perceive and believe,
They are more powerful than that which has created them...
Captivated is the audience that witnesses their demise.
Something occurs,
And from minds can not be excused.
Comments made by those thought elite...
Seem very disconnected from humanity.
And captivated is the audience,
That witnesses their demise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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