Who gets mixed up with garbage will be eaten by pigs.
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All Mixed Up
Im all mixed up, Im all mixed up about,
All mixed up about you
And no I cant find no reason
To explain the way that I feel
I remember things being clearer
At one t ime things were more real
Im all mixed up, Im all mixed up about,
All mixed up about you
Im not lookin for sympathy
Im just frightened by this apathy
Like footsteps way in back of me
On a narrow street of stone
And if time will answer all questions
Then perhaps a film will be shown
Everyone could mail-order tickets
Yeah, you could sell a lot of shirts
For the last picture show
Im all mixed up, Im all mixed up about,
All mixed u p about you
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He who mixes with the bran, will be eaten by the pigs.
The nice apples are always eaten by nasty pigs.
If you put garbage in a computer nothing comes out but garbage. But this garbage, having passed through a very expensive machine, is somehow ennobled and none dare criticize it.
quote by Rory Bremner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pigs and the Charcoal-burner
The old Pig said to the little pigs,
'In the forest is truffles and mast,
Follow me then, all ye little pigs,
Follow me fast!'
The Charcoal-burner sat in the shade
With his chin oil his thumb,
And saw the big Pig and the little pigs
Chuffling come.
He watched 'neath a green and giant bough,
And the pigs in the ground
Made a wonderful grisling and gruzzling
And greedy sound.
And when, full-fed, they were gone, and Night
Walked her starry ways,
He stared with his cheeks in his hands
At his sullen blaze.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Your good friend has just taken a piece of cake out of the garbage and eaten it. You will probably need this information when you check me into the Betty Crocker Clinic.
quote by Cynthia Nixon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I shall not ever return to you, my pigs, because, at worst, to die valorously is better than to sleep out one's youth in the sun. A man has but one life. It is his all. Therefore I now depart from you, my
pigs, to win me a fine wife and much wealth and leisure wherein to discharge my geas. And when my geas is lifted I shall not come back to you, my pigs, but I shall travel everywhither, and into the last limits of earth, so that I may see the ends of this world and may judge them while my life endures. For after that, they say, I judge not, but am judged: and a man whose life has gone out of him, my pigs, is not even good bacon.
quote by James Branch Cabell
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I'm recording an album. It's sort of techno mixed with garbage - you, know, intense in-your-face music.
quote by Christy Romano
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Y... Garbage Man
Become a garbage man
Every day, just for a minute
Search for some litter
Pick up some garbage
Where ever you can
Don't stoop down.
Not good for the back
Just sit on your heels
Stay squatted and look up
It gives you a special perspective
Pick up a hand full
Walk to the bin
Not the nearest
The walking is exercise
Good for your body
So, become a garbage man
It can give you perspective
It is good for your body
It is good for the world
Just a hand full per day.
-
Note:
Garbage men really deserve ou full respect.
I got the idea to write this piece when I was picking up a handful of garbage from the beach. I thought if there more people picking up garbage than people throwing garbage, littering would no longer be a problem.
I hope in this poem there is nothing disrespectful of garbage men. They really do a great job en deserve our respect as much as doctors and lawyers deserve our respect (as indicated in the comments by unwritten soul below)
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Don't Drop Your Garbage
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you teach'.
With self righteous sighs.
Too many sitting on the edge are jumpy.
And twice as many want to fight.
Don't dropp your garbage.
Get from my door and get to steppin'.
Don't want to regret what I do.
I wish to keep that evil sleepin'.
Don't wake it up,
I ask of you!
Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you 'teach'.
With your self righteous sighs.
Too many sitting with an edge are jumpy.
And twice as many look to fight.
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
I'd like to keep myself polite.
Get away!
I don't want to get those demons screaming.
Or stir a yelling to disturb my peaceful night.
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here's a good thing to do if you go to a party and you don't know anybody First, take out the garbage. Then go around and collect any extra garbage that people might have, like a crumpled-up napkin, and take that out too. Pretty soon people will want to meet the busy garbage guy.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dead Parents And The Prodigal Sons
at this point
of their lives the stingy parents
now dead
shall have no regrets
for then their time shall come
to squander
what was saved: land and jewelries
and whatever
shall be thrown away like garbage
for the pigs,
sometimes one asks
if the prodigal sons are prodigal
because when they
were young
they were deprived of what
is due
kids who were not allowed to play
stored in the room
like some stuffed toys.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Debris Leavers
Debris leavers,
Are first to suggest...
Rodents infest their dwellings.
And their taxes are paid,
But don't seem to get rid of pests.
And yet not one of them protests,
When throwing their own garbage in the streets.
Nor do they take brooms to sweep,
The floors in their own homes.
The only thing that is missing,
Is the mud for these pigs!
Although...
That comparison to pigs is quite an unfair one!
Since I am told,
Pigs do use mud to cool and protect themselves from Sun.
And when they snort...
Not one of them is trying to get high,
To escape from lies they manifest to tolerate their own mess.
'Why are you so pessimistic? '
Isn't pessimism connected to some emotional attachment?
Or a negative reaction to that which one can not accept?
'Yeah!
Yeah, something like that? '
I apologize if I offend you in your beloved environment.
However...
If I have to step over trash.
OR clear it before knocking on your front door.
I can just imagine what is hidden in the back!
And out of my sight.
Trust me...
Blight is not one of my top tens.
'Listen...
That's how we live here.
If it is okay with us...
Why should you complain about it! ? '
Well...
Because I too pay taxes.
For the police protection you demand.
And the filth that's created by your mind and hands.
Tossing excuses about at my expense.
And...
I'm doing the best I can to be a true friend.
So don't push no buttons here!
Hopefully one day you will awaken.
To find fresh air to breathe that is clear.
'Hopefully you will learn to keep your mouth shut! '
You mean like 'you' and the rest of 'them'?
The ones who choose to sit on soft and fattened butts.
'No you didn't go there? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young pigs grunt as as old pigs grunted before them.
Young pigs grunt as old pigs grunted before them.
Eaten Alive
(b. gibb/m. gibb/m. jackson)
Animal stalking you at night
Im a sucker for someone
And I got the prey in sight
Lying on a bed of leaves
In the modern times
You forget and let your spirit breathe
Capture me my blood is red
Another victim of your ritual
For you my skin is shed
Ecstacy aint what you find
In the modern world
One flick of my tongue changes
The meaning of the world
And you say
Thats impossible
Thats not impossible to do, oh
And you digest what I can see
The taste of you can be
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cause youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive
Eaten alive
I dont ever wanna be
Eaten alive
Now I got you on the run
And the quicker my senses
And the chance is, Im the faster one
I know the universal law
Primeval times
With a little stimulation
Itll come once more, and you say
Thats impossible
Its not impossible to do, oh
And you digest what I can see
The taste of you can be
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cause youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust
You see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive
Eaten alive
I dont ever wanna be
Eaten alive
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cause youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust
You see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive
Tie me to a tree, crawl all over me
You can rip my shirt, drag me in the dirt
I will be your slave, anything you say
I dont ever wanna be eaten alive
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cos youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cos youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cos youre dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive
Gotta do her, crawl all over me
You can rip my shirt, drag me in the dirt
I will be your slave, anything you say
I dont ever wanna be, eaten alive
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Garbage Can
Life is sometimes not as planned
What could be worse than a garbage can
For you are tossed and thrown away
just like the garbage to rot each day
Taken for granted by a ladies man
A woman is mistreated as much as she can
Love forsaken and lust Oozes out...
To put away his filth without any doubt
In the name of love this game is played
And it is defined as masquerade
The clock turns 8 and it's time to leave
The garbage is out and the man at ease
poem by Meena Mustafa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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