Like many alcoholics, I was a staggering woman in a chic apartment, sick and utterly disgusting.
quote by Mercedes McCambridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Who Are The Anonymous
There two kinds of alcoholics those who can function and those can not
We call them functional, and nonfunctional alcoholics.
One works every day just to celebrate
The other calls off sick, bums money for another drink and continues to celebrate
So to the alcoholics who are anonymous which one are you?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bob
I had a friend that took a blet, took a blet and hung himself
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived
His woman and his little bro came home from the grocery store
Only to find him dangling in the apartment where he lived
I had a friend who shaved his head
Put his doctor martins on
And drew such wondrous pictures in the apartment where he lived
He praised my creativity, though he spoke sarcastically
Oh, the conversations in the apartment where he lived
I had a friend that took a blet, took a belt and hung himself
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived
Rock, she thought him spiteful; ler, he thought him pitiful
Me, Ive never been back to the apartment where he lived
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Sick
im sick of not knowing,
im sick of not showing,
im sick of all the starring
im sick of not caring
im sick of being labled bad
im sick of always looking sad
im sick of feeling locked in bars
im sick of all the painful scars
im sick of all the thugs
im sick of all the drugs
im sick of asking myself why
im sick of telling myself i want to die
im sick of feeling like i always want to cry
im sick of living a lie
im sick of not having a dream
im sick of lifes borring theme
but thares only one was out...
so what does that mean?
poem by Ricky Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im sick
im sick of not knowing,
im sick of not showing,
im sick of all the starring
im sick of not caring
im sick of being labled bad
im sick of always looking sad
im sick of feeling locked in bars
im sick of all the painful scars
im sick of all the thugs
im sick of all the drugs
im sick of asking myself why
im sick of telling myself i want to die
im sick of feeling like i always want to cry
im sick of living a lie
im sick of not having a dream
im sick of lifes borring theme
but thares only one was out...
so what does that mean?
poem by Malorie Genoff
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My mother was a professional sick person; she took a lot of pain pills. There are many people like that. It's just how they are used to getting attention. I always remember she's the daughter of alcoholics who'd leave her alone at Christmas time.
quote by Jim Carrey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sick of Being Sick
I’m sick of being rejected;
I’m sick of being emotionally neglected;
I’m sick of crying so many tears;
I’m sick of running away from my fears;
I’m sick of my childhood nightmares;
I’m sick of being told to do those stupid dares;
I’m sick of not having friends;
I’m sick of all these dead ends;
I’m sick of myself for what I’ve become;
I’m sick of feeling oh so numb;
I’m sick of watching myself drown;
I’m sick of my heart falling to the ground;
I’m sick of this life;
I’m sick of this everyday strife;
I’m sick of not having a dad;
I’m sick of getting mad;
I’m sick of my childhood past;
I’m sick of being harassed;
I’m sick of the dread;
I’m sick of wanting to be dead;
I’m sick of being the one who’s always so strong;
I’m sick of being somebody that doesn’t belong! !
poem by Shelby Brockway
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She Has Rights to Cuss
She told me she got the apartment.
And I should not forget...
To keep up the monthly allotments,
Our kids get.
As if they only mean,
Trinkets and toys to her.
And I have been reduced...
To the one who just planted the seeds.
Giving out samples to the needy.
Now stung from a bee...
Who is nothing but a Welfare Queen.
She told me she got the apartment.
And I should not forget...
To keep up the monthly allotments,
'My' kids 'should' get.
And I have rights to visit.
While she has rights to cuss.
And treat my children in disgusting ways.
She believes she has left me the victim.
But children know when daddy loves!
And mommy is left alone when they are grown.
And she then pays!
Much more than the cost of our divorce.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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At times in my life, I have been utterly lonely. At other times, I've had disgusting infectious diseases. Try admitting these things in our culture.
quote by Martha Beck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Sick....
I am sick …. The pain I feel.
I am sick…. This must be surreal.
I am sick…. I will not die.
I am sick…. But I must live on with this lie.
I am sick…. It’s not like cancer it’s not that bad.
I am sick… but the say depression goes with this pain I have.
I am sick…. It will never disappear.
I am sick…. My days will go on with the same o’l tear.
I am sick…. That I have thought of taking my pain away.
I am sick…. For that I cannot for the pain must stay.
I am sick… and no one can fix me.
I am sick…. That no one can see.
I am sick…. They believe nothing is wrong with me.
I am sick…. Because of this disease.
I am sick…. Because I beg god please.
poem by Winifred Harkness
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Sick I Am...
i am sick...please don`t be sad...
i am sick...please don`t tell anyone...
i am sick...please forgive me if i hurt you...
i am sick...going so faraway from here...
i am sick...saying this only for you...
i am sick...maybe will never come back...
i am sick...remember me and never forget me...
i am sick...pray for me and wish me all best what you can...
i am sick...all wounds i have inside my heart...
i am sick...please don`t be sad...
i am sick... and you will never see me..
poem by Hazem Al Jaber
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Surprise in Japan - The woman next door
a japanese woman
becomes our friend
then asks to borrow money
our apartment
an old couple before us
took their own lives
We were really surprised by a middle age Japanese woman who came over to borrow money from us, students. Though Japan is an economic power, life is not so rosy as thought to be as the cost of living is extemely high. Most people in Tokyo cannot afford to own their houses. An old couple who lived in our apartment earlier committed suicide because of financial woes.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Sunday Morning Blues
So what others may say
and she can hear them
thinking that or maybe
inside her head hear their
voices say as such as she
sits on the stone steps of
her apartment thinking of
him and his thoughtlessness
and sure it's what most
people think is the norm
guys being guys thing but
she can't help being saddened
by his forgetting it being their
fifth anniversary since the
first day they met at the gallery
looking at the modern art the
Mondrian's and Rothko's and
her favourite Lichtenstein's
and how he had been all over
her that day being all knowledge
and kindness and fussing over
the smallest detail and taking
her to that restaurant he knew
and the music he put on in his
classy apartment and how he'd
been quite the gentleman that
night not pressuring for sex no
expectation of anything except
her happiness and now sitting
watching the early morning slow
ride by of Sunday traffic and the
odd passing person and their
usual rest day greetings she feels
depressed that he has forgotten
that he has not called and breathing
in the morning air she wonders
now if he really ever did care or
maybe he's grown sick of her and
her wants and ways or has found
some other woman to love and
caress and kiss and take out and
maybe he's in some other woman's
place lying asleep lying body next
to body face to face and she hopes
maybe he'll ring or text or better
still come round with chocs and wine
and suggest they go and dine but
she'll not text or ring him to remind
or find out where he's gone or
whereabouts he slept the night
before no sir she mutters I'll not
lower myself to do as such full of
cares sitting on her apartment stairs.
poem by Terry Collett
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Polk Salad Annie
(words & music by tony joe white)
Some of you all never been down south too much...
I gonna tell you a little story, so youll understand where Im talking about
Down there we have a plant that grows out in the woods and the fields,
And it looks something like a turnip green.
Everybody calls it polk salad. now thats polk salad.
Used to know a girl that lived down there and
Shed go out in the evenings to pick a mess of it...
Carry it home and cook it for supper, cause thats about all they had to eat,
But they did all right.
Down in louisiana
Where the alligators grow so mean
Lived a girl that I swear to the world
Made the alligators look tame
Polk salad annie
gators got your granny
Everybody said it was a shame
For the mama was working on the chain-gang
What a mean, vicious woman
Everyday before suppertime
Shed go down by the truck patch
And pick her a mess of polk salad
And carry it home in a tote sack
Polk salad annie
gators got you granny
Everybody said it was a shame
cause the mama was working on the chain-gang
Whoo, how wretched, dispiteful, straight-razor totin woman,
Lord have mercy.
Sock a little polk salad to him
Yeah, you know what, yeah, yeah
But daddy was a lazy and a no-count
Claimed he had a bad back
All her brothers were fit for
Was stealing watermelons out of my truck
For once polk salad annie
gators got your granny
Everybody said it was a shame
For the mama was working on the chain-gang
Sock a little polk salad to him
You know what meets a meal mention
You sock a little
Hey, hey, hey, yeah, yeah
Chic a bon, chic a bon, chic a bon bon bon bon
Chic a bon, chic a bon, chic a bon bon bon bon
Sock a little polk salad to him
You know what meets a meal mention
Sock a little polk salad to him
You know what meets a meal mention
Chinc, chinc, chinc, chin, ling, ling ling
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have never known a really chic woman whose appearance was not, in large part, an outward reflection of her inner self.
quote by Mainbocher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sicckk
sick of it..
im so sick of it
im sick of waking up in the morning.
im sick of you saying im nothing,
im sick of you calling me down.
im sick of you drinking all the time. |
im sick of you blaming everything on meh.
im sick of you
im sick of this
im sick of everything..
but must of all your the one im sick of..
i relise your the reson for my pain...
sorry mom..
its time for me to goo..
poem by Cheylayna Bear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Jewish woman had two chickens. One got sick, so the woman made chicken soup out of the other one to help the sick one get well.
quote by Henny Youngman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Actually, recording the Suite Chic album was so much fun and while working on this new album, people that I've worked with from Suite Chic has lend their voice.
quote by Namie Amuro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweeping Under The Rug
Molestations have become the new rage,
To openly admit being committed...
In locker rooms, showers and on fields,
Of play.
Men with boys used as sexual toys,
Abused in the most perverted ways.
Lesbians and gays,
Have even become appalled.
Since their preferences,
Are not hidden behind pretentions.
With a doing as they please...
And admitting to sexual needs.
While those conducting themselves obscenely,
Secretly attempt to hide and deny...
Their own closeted homosexuality.
And those who seem surprised and disgusted,
By the revelation of these activities...
Are the ones who have had their heads buried in sand,
Doing their best to deny,
This existence they attempt to label as sick...
Is more commonly accepted as historic.
Although...
A sweeping under the rug,
Is still a preference for those who enjoy their dirt...
Covered up to maintain 'appropriate' disguises.
'Your comments are utterly disgusting.'
I know.
I do the best I can,
To avoid embellishing my exaggerations!
And by the way...
There is a spot you missed over there!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm not chic, I could never be chic.
quote by Sid Vicious
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A January Fear
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
My class is all here
Down to each little sneer
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Those cute little creatures
Have nothing to fear
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Still knowing that teacher's
not entirely all here
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Each little tear
Makes it perfectly clear
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
A day off is coming
And hopefully near
a sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
It's harder and harder
Maintaining my leer
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Perhaps my behavior's
becoming quite queer
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Perhaps in the morning
I'll call in and cheer
A SICK DAY A SICK DAY
I GOT A PAIN IN MY EAR
Alas...I can hear my principle sneer
With a resigning smirk easy to hear
NO SICK DAY NO SICK DAY
SORRY MY DEAR
NO SICK DAYS NO SICK DAYS
REMAINING THIS YEAR
poem by Robert John Meehan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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