The best way to make a silk purse from a sow's ear is to begin with a silk sow. The same is true of money.
quote by Norman Ralph Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spider Silk
Its lining is that of silk,
Like a from a spider,
For it their spiders are webbing
To determine for the workers to liven their salary.
To test an exam for the student,
Who lightens the silk for the dress he was given
By the tailor.
He exchanged the silk of a spider for its spit.
Spit has venom.
Student is dead from silk.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.
You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.
One disadvantage of being a hog is that at any moment some blundering fool may try to make a silk purse out of your wife's ear.
quote by J.B. Morton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smell Of Money
(intro)
One more day, with a tumble fall,
Down the money pit, with nothing to show
Hey hey yeah
Another twist, in the horror tale
Its an open coffin, that needs one more nail
Smell of money
Maybe Im a victim, (soft silk and bamboo? )
Maybe its the smell of money
Attracts me to you...
Hey hey yeah money
Two clean shirts
Im out on bail
As the barroom baits
They start to wail
The smell of money
Maybe Im a victim, (soft silk and bamboo? )
Maybe its the smell of money,
That brings me to you
Stretched out across the ceiling
? ? domes shimmer and glow
Golden citadels
While the autumn wind billows and flows
(instrumental)
Dancing nights, in the lost and found
Move really nice to that money sound
Smell of money, smell of money,
Smell of money, smell of money
I need
I bleed
(sudden stop)
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Smell Of Money
(intro)
One more day, with a tumble fall,
Down the money pit, with nothing to show
Hey hey yeah
Another twist, in the horror tale
It's an open coffin, that needs one more nail
Smell of money
Maybe I'm a victim, (Soft silk and bamboo?)
Maybe it's the smell of money
Attracts me to you...
Hey hey yeah money
Two clean shirts
I'm out on bail
As the barroom baits
They start to wail
The smell of money
Maybe I'm a victim, (Soft silk and bamboo?)
Maybe it's the smell of money,
that brings me to you
Stretched out across the ceiling
?? Domes shimmer and glow
Golden citadels
While the autumn wind billows and flows
(instrumental)
Dancing nights, in the lost and found
Move really nice to that money sound
Smell of money, smell of money,
smell of money, smell of money
I need
I bleed
(sudden stop)
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Miss---,
{On her giving the author a gold and silk
net-work purse of her own weaving}.
Though gold and silk their charms unite
To make thy curious web delight,
In vain the varied work would shine,
If wrought by any hand but thine;
Thy hand that knows the subtler art,
To weave those nets that catch the heart.
Spread out by me the roving coin,
Thy nets may catch, but not confine;
Nor can I hope thy silken chain
The glittering vagrants shall restrain.
Why, Stella, was it then decreed
The heart once caught should ne'er be freed.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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Silk
Passionate touches
Chocolate kisses
Silk perfection
My body and soul on fire
My eyes glow incandescence
My mind and body sway and rock
You slip into my world
Breathing heavy and high
Fly
Bold and black connections
Silk and creamy perfections
Still life
Real love
Here we go
Lets ride
Lets dance
Lets play
Silk romance
You are my…
You are my…
You are mines
Worth more than all wealth
Greater than any king
Finally the real thing
Silk love
My skin
Milk chocolate
Your skin
Caramel
And we swirl and blend
How does it feel?
Silk feelings never end
His scent
My fragrance
Honeysuckle and milk
His power, my vulnerability
my push, his stroke, our affection…..silk…perfection.
poem by Danielle Beechum
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He that has not silver in his purse should have silk on his tongue.
Kiss, Kiss
Driving down the highway,
In her brand new Porsche,
Big sunglasses on,
Her silk scarf blowing in the wind.
A bag of money,
In the back seat,
The zip is down,
She leaves a cloud of money.
Her jewelled hands,
Clutch the leather wheel,
Her big white teeth,
Grin through her big red lips.
The brakes malfunction,
And the car flips,
A cloud of dust and dollars,
Her silk blood stained scarf billows in the wind.
© Michael Moorcroft October 18th 2009
poem by Michael Moorcroft
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Repetition
Johnny is a man
And hes bigger than you
But his overheads are high
And he looks straight through when you ask him how the kids are
Hell get home around seven
cause the chevys real old
And he could have had a cadillac
If the school had taught him right
And he could have married anne with the blue silk
Blouse
He could have married anne with the blue silk blouse
And the food is on the table
But the food is cold
Dont hit her
Cant you even cook?
Whats the good of me working when you cant damn cook?
Well johnny is a man
And hes bigger than her
I guess the bruises wont show
If she wears long sleeves
But the space in her eyes shows through
And he could have married anne with the blue silk blouse
He could have married anne with the blue silk blouse
Shows through
Shows through
Shows through
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Visit to Victoria's Secret
I made a left
and pulled into the huge
Staten Island Mall parking lot
my sister and Nancy hopped out
racing into Victoria’s Secret
store packed
noticed a small carpeted section
motioned to my sister
sat down
watching women
examine racks and racks
of skimpy panties, silk slips, push-up bras
et cetera, et cetera
also four Transvestites
well, we all want happiness
I said to myself
no harm in a few accouterments
to help
in such a valiant effort.
Suddenly my sister appeared
holding a white silk bra
connected with several strips of more white silk
to a pair of white silk panties.
Nancy’s husband fooled around
here today to lure him back
gave my sister ideas, fears
her dear husband Howard might do the same
so in this place to make sure he stayed home.
“Very provocative, ” I declared.
“Howard just
loved Ellen Barkin wearing this in The Big Easy.”
“He loves you
only lusts after her.”
“Want him to lust after me.”
“Love is better than lust.”
poem by Charles Chaim Wax
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The Painter on Silk
There was a man
Who made his living
By painting roses
Upon silk.
He sat in an upper chamber
And painted,
And the noises of the street
Meant nothing to him.
When he heard bugles, and fifes, and drums,
He thought of red, and yellow, and white roses
Bursting in the sunshine,
And smiled as he worked.
He thought only of roses,
And silk.
When he could get no more silk
He stopped painting
And only thought
Of roses.
The day the conquerors
Entered the city,
The old man
Lay dying.
He heard the bugles and drums,
And wished he could paint the roses
Bursting into sound.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Strive Not, Vain Lover
I.
Strive not, vain lover, to be fine;
Thy silk's the silk-worm's, and not thine:
You lessen to a fly your mistriss' thought,
To think it may be in a cobweb caught.
What, though her thin transparent lawn
Thy heart in a strong net hath drawn:
Not all the arms the god of fire ere made
Can the soft bulwarks of nak'd love invade.
II.
Be truly fine, then, and yourself dress
In her fair soul's immac'late glass.
Then by reflection you may have the bliss
Perhaps to see what a true fineness is;
When all your gawderies will fit
Those only that are poor in wit.
She that a clinquant outside doth adore,
Dotes on a gilded statue and no more.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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