With her high pale brow under her faded brown hair, she was like a rock washed clean by years of her husband's absences at conventions, dinners, committee meetings or simply at the office.
quote by Louis Auchincloss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
High Voltage
(well) you ask me bout the clothes I wear
And you ask me why I grow my hair
And you ask me why Im in a band
I dig doin one night stands
And you wanna see me do my thing
All you gotta do is plug me into high
I said high
High voltage rock n roll
High voltage rock n roll
High voltage, high voltage
High voltage rock n roll
Rock n roll
You ask me why I like to dance
And you ask me why I like to sing
And you ask me why I like to play
I got to get my kicks some way
And you ask me what Im all about
Come and let me hear you shout high
I said high
High voltage rock n roll
High voltage rock n roll
High voltage, high voltage
High voltage rock n roll
Rock n roll
I said high, I said high
Waaaah!
High voltage rock n roll
High voltage rock n roll
High voltage, high voltage
High voltage rock n roll
(mumble, mumble...)
Spotlight, put the lights out, happy hour!
High voltage rock n roll
High voltage rock n roll
Wine, women and song
High voltage, high voltage
Wine women and song
High voltage rock n roll
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faded Red Roses
She stood at the alter
A gown of white she did wear
With a bouquet of red roses
And blue ribbons in her hair
She waited for someone
Who was never to come
Tears leaked from her eyes
Across her cheeks did run
The bouquet of red roses
For her wedding day
Have all now faded
As time slipped away
Those faded red roses
She still holds in her hand
Years have come and gone
Waiting for this man
You’ll still find her
With tears in her eyes
As the hopes he’ll still come
Fade like the roses
Washed too much by the sun
Today she still waits all alone
Those faded red roses in her hand
Is now all that she owns
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I'm just at the White House, I have meetings in my office, I sign letters, I plan different things. Late in the afternoon, I'll quit working and wait for my husband to get home.
quote by Laura Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crawford washed her hands a lot. She washed her arms all the way up past her elbows. She just couldn't get enough done in that direction. She was compulsive about being clean, clean, clean!
It Must Have Been The Roses
Annie laid her head down in the roses.
She had ribbons, ribbons, ribbons, in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
Ten years the waves roll the ships home from the sea,
Thinkin well how it may blow in all good company,
If I tell another what your own lips told to me,
Let me lay neath the roses, till my eyes no longer see.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
One pane of glass in the window,
No one is complaining, no, come in and shut the door,
Faded is the crimson from the ribbons that she wore,
And its strange how no one comes round any more.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
Annie laid her head down in the roses.
She had ribbons, ribbons, ribbons, in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All alone in a committee room of the Senate Office Building in Washington, I was reading the dry typewritten pages in an unpublished report of an almost forgotten congressional committee hearing.
quote by Robert Welch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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TV Dinners
TV dinners there's nothin' else to eat
TV dinners they really can't be beat
I like 'em frozen but you understand
I throw 'em in and wave 'em and I'm a brand new man oh yeah!
TV dinners they're goin' to my head
TV dinners my skin is turnin' red
Twenty year old turkey in a thirty year old tin
I can't wait until tomorrow.... and thaw one out again oh yeah!
TV dinners I'm feelin' kinda rough
TV dinners this one's kinda tough
I like the enchiladas and the teriaki too
I even like the chicken if.... the sauce is not too blue.
And they're mine
song performed by by ZZ Top from Eliminator
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock Me To sleep
Backward, turn backward, O time, in your flight;
Make me a child again, just for tonight!
Mother, come back from that echoless shore;
Take me again in your heart as of yore --
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair,
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep --
Rock me to sleep, mother -- rock me to sleep!
Backward, turn backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears --
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain --
Take them and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay --
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away --
Weary of sowing for others to reap --
Rock me to sleep, mother -- rock me to sleep!
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded -- our faces between --
Yet with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I tonight for your presence again;
Come from the silence, mother -- rock me to sleep!
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old --
Let it drop over my forehead tonight,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light!
For, with its sunny-edged shadows once more,
Haply will throng all the visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep --
Rock me to sleep, mother -- rock me to sleep!
Mother, dear mother! the years have been long
Since I last listened to your lullaby song;
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream;
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep --
Rock me sleep, mother -- rock me to sleep!
poem by Elizabeth Akers Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A rock in the sea
Like a rock in the savage sea
I have weathered many a storm
Being slowly worn in the passing days
Growing smaller and more frail
Seasoned by the sea which rolls
In an uneven tempest I’ve watched
Outward in the ocean of time
Felt the still calm of nothingness
And the rage of high winds
The crash of the ocean against me
The light of my colour faded
Where notches of storms past remain
Chipped away from me
The broken rock, the life I’ve lived
Lost in the depths of the ocean
Washed into the deepest blue
That I can no longer see
That I shall stand till I can stand no more
Like a rock in a savage sea
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Cleanest Man....
he is clean
he prides about the beard
that he has
just shaven
he is clean
there is no hair left on his head
no hair between his thighs
and legs
he is clean
his chest is bare now
his heart slowly
beating
he is clean as he
is empty
like a room without
furniture and
drapes
he is clean and without
sin
he who has not done
anything
and can do not wrong again...
he is clean now
for he is dead....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clean Up The World
Clean Up The World
Where have we gone?
We’ve drifted away
Too many years
Nothin’ to say
Too many years
Intentional lies
Too many years
Collegiate-laundered hipplets
Drivin’ us to demise
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Along came McRonald
We got in its way
Too many years
Puppeteers played
Too many years
Stealing us blind
Too many years
Of totalitarians smothering us from the right
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Their Wall Street money’s been holdin’ us fast
Ideals shallow and vain
They sell us all just to make it last
Revolution of ‘89 today
We got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Self-centered cosmos
Material gain
Too many years
Deflecting their blame
Too many years
Stuffin’ their cart
Too many years
Deceit inside the head
Instead of love in their heart
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its grave
Copyright 1992 Will Fiala
poem by Will Fiala
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where It Was At Back Then
Husband,
last night I dreamt
they cut off your hands and feet.
Husband,
you whispered to me,
Now we are both incomplete.
Husband,
I held all four
in my arms like sons and daughters.
Husband,
I bent slowly down
and washed them in magical waters.
Husband,
I placed each one
where it belonged on you.
'A miracle,'
you said and we laughed
the laugh of the well-to-do.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Care For The Elderly - A Conference
They gather in the Greeting Place
A smaller flock than once expected
Still elated - out from work and office
All around - the empty space
Is pressing on the keen - collected
Taking pointers - out from work and office
Inside the hall there is small trace
Of anyone to ‘stand corrected'
They're all working - inside work and office
Still curtains drift - in finest lace
The certain eyes not disaffected
Hide behind the lace of work and office
And speakers high in group embrace
Speak on and clap in unelected
Fluffy tones of every Higher Office
The higher speakers high disgrace
Is hid below their undetected
Lack of use - their waste of work and office
In keening grief - tears hid from face
A speaker - practical - affected
Brings human life within their work and office
And human thoughtfulness will base
Its Older Care on need selected
From that shown - away from work and office
Its time to fix he High and chase
By methods certain - unsuspected
Out form power - out from work and office
Foregather - follow to their base
See them - incestuous - connected
By wires unseen - inside work and office
27Mar2011 CPR
poem by Charlotte Peters Rock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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high Voltage
You ask me 'bout the clothes I wear
And you ask me why I grow my hair
And you ask me why I'm in a band
I dig doin' one night stands
You wanna see me do my thing
All you gotta do is plug me into high
I said high
High voltage rock 'n' roll
You ask me why I like to dance
And you ask me why I like to sing
And you ask me why I like to play
I got to get my kicks some way
You ask me what I'm all about
Come and let me hear you shout high
I said high
High voltage rock 'n' roll
song performed by by AC/DC from High Voltage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Linley From Dubbo
Though she is only forty four she looks much older
And gray through her shoulder length hair of brown
But twenty years ago she looked a beauty
One of the finest in Dubbo her Hometown.
She married young when she was only twenty
And she was pregnant on her wedding day
She loved her husband and to him was faithful
But her price for loving him too high to pay.
Her angry husband when drunk often beat her
But next morning he'd say I'm sorry dear
I promise you that this again won't happen
Perhaps I ought to give up on the beer.
But his promises to her were quickly broken
The leopard never seems to change his spots how true
He often came home from the pub aggressive
And he often beat poor Linley black and blue.
Till she grew tired of Jack her violent husband
And she took her daughter Jo and headed south
Since that day ten years back she hasn't seen him
And where he now lives she doesn't wish to find out.
Linley from Dubbo is a young grand mother
Her grand daughter will be two years old next may
She won't be going back for to live in Dubbo
In Ferntree Gully she's happy to stay.
Since she left her husband she has had many relationships
But none of them lasted more than a year
But she says soon that she will meet her soul mate
And happy times for her she feels are near.
Despite all she has been through she feels so positive
And she has got a good approach to life
And lovely Linley from Dubbo in her forties
For some lucky man will make a marvellous wife.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Football combines the two worst things about America: it is violence punctuated by committee meetings.
quote by George Will
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rocker Girl
I went downtown just to see
If there was a rocker boy made for me.
Tight pants and long brown permed hair.
Preferably zebra striped underwear.
Hes gonna rock my world.
Be his rocker girl.
Gonna be his rocker girl.
I love the way that he gives all the guys shiners
cause it sort of matches my blue eyeliner.
Hes so tough, hes so cute, hes a regular dream.
He looks so good in his acid washed denim jeans.
Hes gonna rock my world
Be his rocker girl.
He will know all the good movies.
Hell know just how to rock it to me.
Hell be so romantic and that
Hell know every word to spinal tap.
And Ill be his rocker girl... 2 3 4.
If he was russian, he would be the kremlin.
If he was a rock star, he would be led zeppelin.
If he was a month he would be oh say may or june.
If he was underwear he would be fruit of the loom.
Hes gonna rock my world
Be his rocker girl.
Gonna be his rocker girl.
Gonna be his rocker girl.
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock Me To Sleep, Mother
BACKWARD, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again just for to-night!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears,—
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I to-night for your presence again.
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like mother-love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures,—
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead to-night,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song:
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream.
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
poem by Elizabeth Chase Allen
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Football incorporates the two worst elements of American society violence punctuated by committee meetings.
quote by George Will
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Football is a mistake. It combines the two worst elements of American life. Violence and committee meetings.
quote by George F. Will
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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