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A woman who accepts, sells herself; a woman who gives, surrenders.
Peace Sells... But Who's Buying? (live)
What do you mean, "I don't believe in God"?
I talk to him every day.
What do you mean, "I don't support your system"?
I go to court when I have to.
What do you mean, "I can't get to work on time"?
I got nothing better to do
And, what do you mean, "I don't pay my bills"?
Why do you think I'm broke? Huh?
If there's a new way,
I'll be the first in line.
But, it better work this time.
What do you mean, "I hurt your feelings"?
I didn't know you had any feelings.
What do you mean, "I ain't kind"?
I'm just not your kind.
What do you mean, "I couldn't be president,
Of the United States of America"?
Tell me something, it's still "We the people", right?
If there's a new way
I'll be the first in line,
But, it better work this time.
Can you put a price on peace?
Peace,
Peace sells...,
Peace,
Peace sells...,
Peace sells...,but who's buying?
Peace sells...,but who's buying?
Peace sells...,but who's buying?
Peace sells...,but who's buying?
No, peace sells
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace Sells
What do you mean, I dont believe in god?
I talk to him every day.
What do you mean, I dont support your system?
I go to court when I have to.
What do you mean, I cant get to work on time?
I got nothing better to do
And, what do you mean, I dont pay my bills?
Why do you think Im broke? huh?
Chorus
If theres a new way,
Ill be the first in line.
But, it better work this time.
What do you mean, I hurt your feelings?
I didnt know you had any feelings.
What do you mean, I aint kind?
Im just not your kind.
What do you mean, I couldnt be president, of the united states of america?
Tell me something, its still we the people, right?
Chorus (repeat)
If theres a new way Ill be the first in line, but, it better work this time. can you put a price on peace?
Peace,
Peace sells...,
Peace,
Peace sells...,
Peace sells...,but whos buying?
Peace sells...,but whos buying?
Peace sells...,but whos buying?
Peace sells...,but whos buying?
No, peace sells...
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't do something because I think it will sell 30 million albums. I couldn't care less. If it sells one, it sells one.
quote by Oscar Peterson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To the moralist prostitution does not consist so much in the fact that the woman sells her body, but rather that she sells it out of wedlock.
quote by Emma Goldman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If it sells, it sells. If it doesn't sell, I'll go make a movie.
Flower Lady
Flowers she sells,
In the market, she dwells,
A burden on thin shoulders,
She balances so well,
Strong as big boulders,
Lovely flowers she sells.
She Sells
(ferry/jobson)
Now youre talking in headlines
Up to the minute and free
Stop press, hold the front page
Up as a mirror
Are you reading me?
Watch you walking in waltz time
A jigsaw puzzle in tune
Or are you faking a straight line
To suit yourself too soon
Rather nouveau than never
Contemporary ideal
Some natural kind of poet might slow it
But she sells more my speed
She sells country and modern
Ancient western song
Of oriental confusion
You so right, me so wrong
Now youre fixing to fly me-
Auto-erotic, please,
On the break that youre gliding.
Your lingeries a gift-wrap
Slip it to me
Nine till five
The daily grind
Made-up lies
Make up my mind
Same machine consuming you
Consuming you
Oh why
She sells
I need
Oh why love why
She sells
I need.
song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.
quote by Martin Luther King, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nobody reads a mystery to get to the middle. They read it to get to the end. If it's a letdown, they won't buy anymore. The first page sells that book. The last page sells your next book.
quote by Mickey Spillane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The whore fares
The whore is the woman
Who sells her body, not her heart.
In adultery, the woman
Sells, bodily or not, the very heart.
A cuckold is more ill fated
Than one whose wife was a whore.
24.11.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christmas Sells
Dashing through the mall
the last day’s sale parade
Through the stores we charge
spending all the way
Bells on counters ring
credit cards a’flight
Oh what fun to laugh and spend
we’ll shop into the night
Jingle bells Christmas sells
tingle all the way
Oh what fun it is to hide
the cost on lay-away
Christmas sells nothing quells
For opulence we’ll pay
Oh what fun to slide into
financial disarray
poem by Tom Courtney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only To Nibble A Bit To Then Spit
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
People get use to the familiar.
Although prior to it,
They had settled for the bland.
Until a spicing done to that blandness,
Made more of the spice...
Requested by demand.
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
A rejection of what had been once presented,
Now is refused as mediocrity.
And a closer inspection becomes harsely critiqued.
Critics come out of the woodwork,
To exclaim their findings weak.
And those who plagiarize,
Take credit for their additions done.
But the one who sweats with an innovation...
Never receives a just due that comes!
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
Only to nibble a bit to then spit,
That's it!
As if what is tasted is nothing but garbage.
Especially if a taste of it reminds one of the rest,
That has already bettered the betterment of one's best!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sex Kills
I pulled up behind a cadillac;
We were waiting for the light;
And I took a look at his license plate-
It said, just ice.
Is justice just ice?
Governed by greed and lust?
Just the strong doing what they can
And the weak suffering what they must?
And the gas leaks
And the oil spills
And sex sells everything
And sex kills ...
Sex kills ...
Doctors pills give you brand new ills
And the bills bury you like an avalanche
And lawyers havent been this popular
Since robespierre slaughtered half of france!
And indian chiefs with their old beliefs know
The balance is undone-crazy ions-
You can feel it out in traffic;
Everyone hates everyone!
And the gas leaks
And the oil spills
And sex sells everything
And sex kills ...
Sex kills ...
All these jackoffs at the office
The rapist in the pool
Oh and the tragedies in the nurseries-
Little kids packin guns to school
The ulcerated ozone
These tumors of the skin-
This hostile sun beating down on
This massive mess were in!
And the gas leaks
And the oil spills
And sex sells everything
And sex kills ...
Sex kills ...
Sex kills ...
Sex kills ...
Sex kills ...
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Torture
Welcome to the torture chamber
said the sign above the entrance
laughinh as it taked you by the hand
Looking as i maniac savage
inside you can sense the anguish
theatre of pain has just begun
Mr.Torture gives pain
with his whips and his chains
he knows just what you crave
Mr. Torture
If youre feeling alone
then just pick up your phone
dial 18 double 0 Mr. Torture
Mr. Torture sells pain
Only sixty sents a minute
for his special brand of singing
phone guaranteed to blow your mind
You can catch him on a website
has a live chat every weeknight
cyber-torture soon coming your way
Mr Torture sells pain
to the houswives in Spain
he knows just what you crave
Mr Torture
If youre feeling alone
then just pick up your phone
dial 18 double 0 Mr. Torture
Mr Torture sells pain
Handcaffed,bounded,chained and blinded
body, soul and mind ignated
every sense is torn and ripped apart
Hes been banned in twenty countries
though he does it for money
he gets pleasure by hearing you scream
Mr. Torture gives pain
with his whips and his chaines
he knows just what you crave Mr. Torture
If youre feelin alone
then just pick up your phone
dial 18 double 0 Mr. Torture
Mr. Torture sells pain
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Simplistic Solutions: Sexual Discrimination Sells
Advertisement companies use sex
(unisex maximizes
gender hormonal appeals)
because sex sells sells sells baby.
Such sweeping statements
are compelling indictments
against civilized society
(supposedly male dominated
but at the lower end of the scale
that’s not a bowl of cherries either baby
- like get real poor men suffer ladies)
and cannot be struck legitimately
from decades past sexual
discrimination extant public records.
People who indiscriminately hate
(their frustrated gendered
class bound inequality position)
need someone else to blame
(for failure or lack of ultimate
effort applied
to all attempts
made in hopes
of attaining success.)
Wrongs individually committed
(by gender / class / race)
are often erroneously judged
(indicted indignantly)
ranted against
an entire gender class
race inappropriately.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Fists and Pain Inflicted
Escalated abuse,
Is not love.
To be used and tormented...
Is an addiction to be loathed.
But those cloaked within this need,
Can not see the danger...
Feeding these mindless deeds.
And domesticated violence,
One accepts to receive agony...
Remains a sickness wished!
To attract a slow suicide,
One excuses and accepts...
To forgive and forget.
With Hopes for a shared happiness,
To reminisce.
After fists and pain inflicted...
Heals!
But the re-occurrence reveals,
Not a mending but a killing...
Of a relationship!
Dedicated to:
Robin!
'Why? Ask yourself,
Do you need this?
And if you are entertained by it!
Is your fame maintained...
Worth the pain you sustain? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ox Cart Man
In October of the year,
he counts potatoes dug from the brown field,
counting the seed, counting
the cellar's portion out,
and bags the rest on the cart's floor.
He packs wool sheared in April, honey
in combs, linen, leather
tanned from deerhide,
and vinegar in a barrel
hoped by hand at the forge's fire.
He walks by his ox's head, ten days
to Portsmouth Market, and sells potatoes,
and the bag that carried potatoes,
flaxseed, birch brooms, maple sugar, goose
feathers, yarn.
When the cart is empty he sells the cart.
When the cart is sold he sells the ox,
harness and yoke, and walks
home, his pockets heavy
with the year's coin for salt and taxes,
and at home by fire's light in November cold
stitches new harness
for next year's ox in the barn,
and carves the yoke, and saws planks
building the cart again.
poem by Donald Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Is The Answer
i guess
love is more of
sort of a
question
so while young
you better ask it
find it until you find your skin
with a lot of furrows
and regrets creeping on
your marrow
and then sigh, sigh, sigh
love indeed is the answer
old age accepts it with
resignation
i guess it is sort of
loneliness accepts love
whatever
be it a question or an answer
it does not matter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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