I don't mind if somebody comes up to me and shakes my hand, but if I'm in the middle of a restaurant and somebody asks me for a picture, I can be a jerk and say no, or I can say yes and draw more attention to myself, which is exactly the opposite of what I want.
quote by Macaulay Culkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
An Old Man With His Hat
There Little Robbie found him in an old yellow album
A blurred picture of a half old man with his hat
Standing in front of the coffin
He smiles shy but wide with his teeth gone making a hole like Little Robbie when he lose his baby teeth
Little Robbie doesn’t recognize him and he wonder where he is now
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his big sister
But his sister doesn’t recognize him and she wonder who he is
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his mother
But his mother doesn’t recognize him and she wonder how he was there
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his father
But his father doesn’t recognize him and he wonder what he did there
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his uncle
But his uncle doesn’t recognize him and he wonder when the picture taken
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks hopelessly to his grandfather
His grandfather takes a deep look to that picture and wonders why Little Robbie asks
Little Robbie says, “I want to meet him! I want to know about him! I want to play with him! ”
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
But his grandfather shakes his head, “No, he is not.”
He is not one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
He is just an old man with his hat
“He accompanied your great grandfather when he sick until his death. This picture is taken in a burial of your great grandfather.”
His grandfather stares at little Robbie
“Now, are you disappointed? ”
He is not one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
He is just an old man with his hat
Little Robbie shakes his head, “No, I am not.”
Though he is not one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
Though he is just an old man with his hat
“But I still want to meet him, I want to know about him, and I want to play with him! ”
And then he could be one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ten Percenter
Im just another ten percenter
My mind is like an ocean
My mind is like an ocean
Im hanging in the harbor
Im just drifting letting out the line
Im letting out the drifting line
Im just tyring to a guy
Whos hailing from ann arbor
Im a jerk
And its good
Getting perk
Yeah, I would
Im a jerk
If you got cotton mouth
You better have some water
Sucking syrup and soda
Youre going to just get hotter
But if you want to wile awhile
But if you want to wile awhile
Oh suck a syrup and soda
Oh dance oh sons and daughters
Im a jerk
And its good
Getting perk
Yeah, I would
Im a jerk
If you got cotton mouth
My mind is like an ocean
My mind is like an ocean
My mind is like an ocean
Im a jerk
Making jerk
Soda jerk
And its good
Jerk
Jerk
Jerk
Jerk
Jerk
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The right time was at the crossroads With a future in his plans The wrong time reapproaches With right time's suitcase in hand The right time asks, how 's the journey The wrong time said the 'whether' turned me around. The right time, shakes his head, Shakes his hand and leaves Before the sun goes down.
Her own Life....
the middle aged woman
speaks about all the bad luck in her life
she is poor, her heart is broken
her husband is sick
her children all dumb
she has no house to live
she has no relatives to
help her
then she asks me
on what part of her life will she be grateful to God?
she does not know the word
about thanks
then the older woman asks her
to give back at 3 p.m. today the life that the Lord has given her
she realizes what she has which she has not given importance
she shakes her head, kneels on the ground and
said thanks to God....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Opposite Begins
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
People known to create conflict,
Seek an attention they don't get...
Until,
The opposite begins.
Opposition steps in.
They pretend a trust to believe,
To have others perceive but...
The opposite begins,
For them.
Wake up and take notice,
That the opposite begins for them.
Those who charade innocence.
The opposite begins for them.
Those masking evil intent.
The opposite begins for them.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
But then,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
They want it quick.
And...
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
To then see someone who genuinely fits,
Well...
The opposite begins pursued.
Oh yes it does.
An opposite begins pursued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Draw You
I see the spirit moving
In the very fabric of the universe
I tell you so
You see the power in your hand
To ease the suffering of a dying child
You tell me so
I reach for stars
But you are keeping
Both feet firmly planted
On the ground
Or so I've found
I wrestle with eternal questions
You wrestle with the here and now
Cause you're here now
It breaks my heart
That your alluring eye
Are blind to what I see
It's tragic that the quests
That move our live
Are just so different
But I would draw you into my heart
If your eyes weren't closed to me
And I would draw you into the world
Behind the one you see
If I could speak my mind
Then I would take you to secret places
Only ours to find
Your spirit longs to breathe
If only you'd believe
I look for miracles
And search for the miraculous
Along my way
You seem to say
The opposite is true for you
You just seem satisfied
With what you find each day
Your life's OK
Your spirit's lost and wandering in the sand
I swear I hear your voice
Crying save me from the desert
Take my hand
Lead me to water
But I would draw you into my heart
If your eyes weren't closed to me
And I would draw you into the world
Behind the one you see
If I could speak my mind
Then I would take you to secret places
Only ours to find
Your spirit longs to breathe
If only you'd believe
song performed by by Daniel Bedingfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
And Once You Will Learn..
As I mix a hundred colours to paint your picture,
My canvas shrinks in size
And cries it foul.
There you stand with a smile mysterious.
As I hold a brush with a thousand quills on it,
My right hand shivers
And calls it uncommon.
Someone stands by you a with a frown.
You think I wouldn’t draw your picture at all.
You feel it’s my indifference
And colossal lack of concern.
Your mind turns into an ocean of skepticism.
Still on my large frame of mind
Your portrait hangs for ever
And there I see your smiling face.
My love has ever been thus…
Once when you begin to learn things,
My canvas and right hand will wither away.
Then your portrait drawn in a thousand colours
Will be your last concern perhaps.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There's times when you're having dinner with a good friend and you're in the middle of a conversation and somebody comes up and cuts you off. Can you sign this? Can I take a picture with you? I'm adjusting to all the attention.
quote by Verne Troyer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Why Me?
When the hopes are hassled
And relationships are rattled
Naïveté asks, why me?
When wishes are whacked
And dreams are dashed
Naïveté asks, why me?
When fantasies are fettered
And blessings are battered
Naïveté asks, why me?
When desires are demolished
And ambitions are admonished
Naïveté asks, why me?
When temptations are traumatized
And passions are pulverized
Naïveté asks, why me?
Strangely,
Naïveté with influence
And naïveté with affluence
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with name
And naïveté with fame
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with health
And naïveté with wealth
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with fiefdom
And naïveté with wisdom
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with beauty
And naïveté with booty
Never asks, why me?
poem by Hitesh Sheth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Draw You (demo)
I see the spirit moving in the very fabric of the universe
I tell you so
You see the power in your hands
To ease the suffering of a dying child
You tell me so
I reach for stars
But you are keeping both feet firmly planted
On the ground
Or so Ive found
I wrestle with eternal questions
You wrestle with the here and now
Cause youre here and now
It breaks my heart that your alluring eyes
Are blind to what I see
Its tragic that the quests that move our lives
Are just so different
But I could draw you into my heart
If your eyes werent closed to me
And I would draw you into the world
Behind the one you see
If I could speak my mind
Then I could take you to secret places only ours to find
Your spirit longs to breathe
If only youd believe
(la la la nah nah nah la la)
I look for miracles
And search for the miraculous along my way
You seem to say
The opposite is true for you
You just seem satisfied with what you find each day
Your lifes ok
Your spirits lost and wandering in the sand
I swear I hear your voice
Crying save me from the desert
Take my hand
Lead me to water
But I could draw you into my heart
If your eyes werent closed to me
And I could draw you into the world
Behind the one you see
If I could speak my mind
Then I would take you to secret places only ours to find
Your spirit longs to breathe
If only youd believe
song performed by by Daniel Bedingfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Terminal Velocity
`
Drenched in heavy morning rain
Like an arctic soaking to the vein;
I just sat there stunned and wordless,
by the results of endless tests.
Only do I seek the scoffer's sympathy;
my litanies dot the bottom of this timpani.
No restaurant on high street offers...
Whoa! I found where my sanity rests:
A very comforting hand takes mine,
The other hand by her child as well.
I draw dry ice sculptures in my mind,
While a hawk's screech rings overhead.
`
Every person has many wishes. A cancer patient has only one: to get better. In honour of those that have lost their battle with cancer, are still fighting the battle, or have beaten it! ! ! !
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Creep Hymn
The creep
Goes to a restaurant
And order the food to eat at the restaurant
But when the food comes he eats a little bit of the food
Just so he can taste it
And he tells everybody very loud that the food that he order
Taste like shit
And then he takes the plate and throws it on the floor
But he lives the restaurant without pay
The waitress from the restaurant looks everywhere for him in the Restaurant
Sorry waitress he is gone out of the door
And he run away so that you couldn't catch him
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The seeded draw came into being. This means that the two best players of the tournament are placed in opposite halves in the draw, and cannot possibly meet until the finals, if they come through successfully against all the rest of the participants.
quote by Helen Wills Moody
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Pay For What You Get
Work ourselves, fingers to the bone
Suck the morrow, drain my soul
Pay your dues, and your debts
Pay your respects, everybody tells you
You pay for what you get
You pay for what you get
Everybody asks me how shes doing
Has she really lost her mind?
I said, I couldnt tell you Ive lost mine
Words, words, words have you heard
A bird in hand is much better than,
Any number free to wander
Fly away...
Stay
You pay for what you get
You pay for what you get
Everybody asks me how shes doing
Has she really lost her...
Everybody asks me how shes doing
Since she went away
I said I couldnt tell
Im okay
Im okay
Im okay, how are you?
Pay for what you get...
Pay for what you get...oh...
Pay for what you get...
Pay for what you get...
Oh...
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Lesson In Drawing
My son places his paint box in front of me
and asks me to draw a bird for him.
Into the color gray I dip the brush
and draw a square with locks and bars.
Astonishment fills his eyes:
'… But this is a prison, Father,
Don't you know, how to draw a bird?'
And I tell him: 'Son, forgive me.
I've forgotten the shapes of birds.'
My son puts the drawing book in front of me
and asks me to draw a wheatstalk.
I hold the pen
and draw a gun.
My son mocks my ignorance,
demanding,
'Don't you know, Father, the difference between a
wheatstalk and a gun?'
I tell him, 'Son,
once I used to know the shapes of wheatstalks
the shape of the loaf
the shape of the rose
But in this hardened time
the trees of the forest have joined
the militia men
and the rose wears dull fatigues
In this time of armed wheatstalks
armed birds
armed culture
and armed religion
you can't buy a loaf
without finding a gun inside
you can't pluck a rose in the field
without its raising its thorns in your face
you can't buy a book
that doesn't explode between your fingers.'
My son sits at the edge of my bed
and asks me to recite a poem,
A tear falls from my eyes onto the pillow.
My son licks it up, astonished, saying:
'But this is a tear, father, not a poem!'
And I tell him:
'When you grow up, my son,
and read the diwan of Arabic poetry
you'll discover that the word and the tear are twins
and the Arabic poem
is no more than a tear wept by writing fingers.'
My son lays down his pens, his crayon box in
front of me
and asks me to draw a homeland for him.
The brush trembles in my hands
and I sink, weeping.
poem by Nizar Qabbani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At The Middle Of Things
the starting point is always a rush
the sound of times is demanding
specifically
on wanting details to be perfect
there is that attention to color
what ought to be and protesting always
for what is not
the idealism of the mind and the
strictness of the hand
at the middle of the way
one feels tired
sometimes the wish to back out
settles on the skin
you peep at the end of the line
what is the use? you ask yourself
there is no use. there is no us.
you answer it yourself without even
the slightest wink in your eyes
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cool Jerk
Cool jerk, cool jerk, cool jerk, cool jerk
This cat theyre talking about
I wonder who could it be
cause I know Im the heaviest cat
The heaviest cat you ever did see
When you see me walking down the street
And they clapping and they speak
All the business they wish to whisper it
But they know Im the king of the cool jerks
Ah ha ha
Look at them guys looking at me like Im a fool
Ah but deep down inside they know Im cool
I said now,
I said now the moment of truth has finally come
When I was gonna do some, some of that cool jerk
All right, now I want to hear a little bit
Of the drums by himself here
All right, now I want to hear a little bit of
A bass with those eighty-eights
All right, now lets hear the organ player fall in
All right now everybody, I wanna hear you howl
Ah youre cooking, youre smoking
Come on people can you do it?
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Such A Good Boy
(carly simon/robbie shakespeare/mike mainieri)
He asks her for permission
To take the car
Light his cigar
Play his guitar
Burn down the barn
He asks her for permission
To tie his shoes
To take a snooze
To read the news
To sing the blues
Chorus:
Hes such a good boy
A real mamas boy
She treats him like a toy
Hes such a good boy
(repeat)
He asks her for permission
To get a tan
To play his hand
To blow a grand
To be a man
He asks her for permission
To say goodnight
To see snow white
To watch the fight
cause shes always right
Chorus
She points her finger
And waves her hand
And acts just like a queen bee
But hes foolin? her
cause he doesnt ask
Her for permission
When he comes to see me
Chorus
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wasted Proposition
love is not a student.
and you are no teacher.
you cannot teach me.
i am free.Freedom is
an incurable jerk.
I jerk off, alone with my
nerves.
In the house, this door
is closed.
The windows gossip.
my shoes are growing
moss.
my shirt is eaten by
snails.
the stars on my roof
are fake
earrings
mother is beautiful
she is a faded picture of
a family memory.
they avoid this kind
of confrontation.
it is not essential.
what is essential? i ask that too.
all i have are branded
as accessories.
that was a good movie.
the line ends:
do not ever think about loving me.
i am wasted.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His vocabulary
her vocabulary
every word fits into its space
like a classroom
her vocabulary
each word carries its own weight
as it files into my mind
her vocabulary
notes of the morning birds
that strain to sing
her vocabulary
my mind polished
like silver
her vocabulary
the calisthenics of her mind
in my mind
her vocabulary
the precision of her mind
etched onto my heart
her vocabulary
sublime as a glass of
evening whisky
her vocabulary
strikes like
glitters of diamonds
his vocabulary
my brain has no space
to breathe
his vocabulary
every piece of writing
has become a thesis
his vocabulary
he asks to take him
as he is
his vocabulary
she feels he is not true
to his own feelings
his vocabulary
she asks it is weaned from
dictionary or experience
his vocabulary
she asks he is out to impress
or express
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!