They're not poodles, they're art.
quote by Rachael Leigh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Poodles
So many love to spoil their pets.
Especially those poodles.
With pedicures and silk worn vests.
Especially those poodles.
Some can be seen,
Adorning precious gems as necklaces.
Especially those poodles.
And people 'ahh' and 'ooo' too...
Whenever they see a pampered moving poodle.
Why,
Oh why...
Few are heard to brag about their cockatoos?
Those noisy Australasian crested parrots.
And,
Why oh why...
Do some prefer cats?
Even appearing to nap those cats will scratch back.
Love people do their poodles.
No matter what those poodles do.
And finicky are those poodles too.
Whining to be carried in their owner's arms...
As they choose to coo like a lovebird.
So many love to spoil their pets.
Especially those poodles.
With pedicures and silk worn vests.
Especially those poodles.
Why,
Oh why...
Few are heard to brag about their cockatoos?
Those noisy Australasian crested parrots.
And,
Why oh why...
Do some prefer cats?
Even appearing to nap those cats will scratch back.
Why do people choose to brag about their poodles.
Some can be seen,
Adorning precious gems as necklaces.
Especially those poodles.
And people 'ahh' and 'ooo' too...
Whenever they see a pampered moving poodle,
Flaunt and strut while cruising.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I wonder if other dogs think poodles are members of a weird religious cult.
quote by Rita Rudner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Strawberry Moon
will turn your
big Macs into chateaubriand
cockroaches into poodles
eyes into shooting stars
lips into roses
heart into the giant
Ghiardelli chocolate bar
it has always dreamed
of being
poem by David Kowalczyk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of course I don't always enjoy being a mother. At those times my husband and I hole up somewhere in the wine country, eat, drink, make mad love and pretend we were born sterile and raise poodles.
quote by Dorothy DeBolt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem for JC and AJS
Yesterday evening, it rained
cats and dogs. The night
was plaintive. And even after
we'd swept them all up and
found homes for them,
bandaged their paws, and
got them down from the trees
and chimney-stacks
there were still
poodles in the street.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be wary of passing the judgment: obscure. To find something obscure poses no difficult, elephants and poodles find many things obscure.
quote by Georg C. Lichtenberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Another Neighborhood
No one should kick a dog,
Once it has been found...
Laying on the ground.
'But those people over there,
Have confessed they weren't aware.'
That is difficult to believe.
'The only thing they do admit to seeing,
Is the dog being dragged behind a truck.
Then strung up in a tree.
To then be cut down to lay upon the ground.
But no one saw it being kicked.'
But why didn't anyone rush to the dog's aid?
'Most of them have said,
They have a preference more for poodles.
And that dog appeared to be a mutt.
From another neighborhood.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eat the Rich
Well I woke up this morning on the wrong side of the bed
And how I got to thinkin' about all the things you said
About ordinary people and how they make you sick
And if callin' names kicks back on you then I hope this does the trick
'Cause I'm sick of your complainin' about how many bills
And I'm sick of all your bitchin' about your poodles and your pills
And I just can't see no humour about your way of life
And I think I can do more for you with this here fork and knife
Eat The Rich
song performed by by Aerosmith from Get A Grip
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cotton cany kisses
Mixed in taste
is a touch of Peach Brandy
and kisses flavored
like cotton candy
with panoramic views
in luminescent hues
from atop a Ferris Wheel.
Calliopes made
the Monkeys dance
while Pipers played
and Poodles pranced
pleasured feelings grew
which upon I drew
this goodness I did feel
Breaking News
People are being observed awakening,
As if from a darkness kept.
People are seen treating one another wirh respect.
And this has been reported to upset those,
Responsible for disease control.
Selected demographics,
Are no longer affected by the test.
And as of yet there seems to be no antidote,
To stop the spread of this epidemic imposed.
'Those who 'have not' are ignoring those who 'have'.
What's going on?
Even the poodles are looking confused.'
Stay tuned for futher developments and updates,
On this breaking news.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World is Fair
Unemployed engineers have to eat on food stamps
Sidney Crosby has received eight figure pay cheques
The man who drives a Taxi is a licensed Doctor
Yet fame comes to a girl whose family owns the Hilton
Harvard doctors struggle to find a cure for Aids
While Apple pays Billions to procure commercial fees
There are people who live off of thrift shop clothes
But manicured mothers can afford there poodles stoves
And for every person who condemns a women's clinic
There are twenty children starving for nutritional attention
The world is always fair, the world is always fair
Especially to those who never live their
poem by Kevin Patrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lost Days
running around, southing,
jumping on bed,
crying for petty things,
making paper boats in rain,
getting wet,
jumping in the poodles of water,
running falling, getting dirty
feelings safe in the arms of mother,
lying on the floor,
watching the ceiling
trying to figure out dragons and fairy
from the water patter formed by seepage
looking for rainbow, trying reach it
looking at stars, making a wish
those little games
imitating birds and running after dogs
climbing trees and getting scratched,
watching fishes in pond
throwing stones in water
i really miss those good old days
poem by Anjesh shekhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meat And Potato Man
meat and potato man
I like my steak well done, my taters fried
Football games on monday night
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I like my coffee black
Oltv shows
My women hot and my beer ice cold
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I dont like caviar, sushi bars,
The irs or phony stars
Im a haggard fan
A meat and potato man
I like my fishinholes, lightninbugs
Flatt nscruggs, and my womans love
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I like my wrangler jeans, cowboy boots
Cornbread and beans and country roots
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I dont like politics, hypocrites
Folks with poodles dressed like kids
Im a hounddog fan
A meat and potato manyeah, thats what i am,
A meat and potato man
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meat & Potato Man
Meat and potato man
I like my steak well done, my taters fried
Football games on monday night
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I like my coffee black
Oltv shows
My women hot and my beer ice cold
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I dont like caviar, sushi bars,
The irs or phony stars
Im a haggard fan
A meat and potato man
I like my fishinholes, lightninbugs
Flatt nscruggs, and my womans love
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I like my wrangler jeans, cowboy boots
Cornbread and beans and country roots
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I dont like politics, hypocrites
Folks with poodles dressed like kids
Im a hounddog fan
A meat and potato manyeah, thats what I am,
A meat and potato man
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flying Leaf
Flying leaf.
Tuesday I´ve looked in my kill list, but couldn´t find
anyone to drone today, yet had time for the betting
shop and won ten euros on a horse called Abdulla.
In my trunks only, I went for a scooter drive; country
lane a woman came out of her dwelling and crossed
herself, yes I look like an overcooked vanilla pudding;
but no need of her to throw pebbles and set her
poodles on me. Why do I end up in the wrong places?
Once was waiting for a bus taking me to Garston and
it was raining; I have forgotten what I was doing there,
I remember a black woman who gave me a sunshine
smile and rain stopped. Still Tuesday and I have no
assassination list ready only memories of a life where
I was torn from the mother oak, drifting in the wind
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Night to the Season
Good-night to the Season!—the rages
Led off by the chiefs of the throng,
The Lady Matilda's new pages,
The Lady Eliza's new song;
Miss Fennel's Macaw, which at Boodle's
Is held to have something to say;
Mrs. Splenetic's musical Poodles,
Which bark 'Batti, batti!' all day.
. . .
Good-night to the Season!—another
Will come with its trifles and toys,
And hurry away, like its brother,
In sunshine, and odour, and noise.
Will it come with a rose or a briar?
Will it come with a blessing or curse?
Will its bonnets be lower or higher?
Will its morals be better or worse?
Will it find me grown thinner or fatter,
Or fonder of wrong or of right,
Or married, or buried?—no matter,
Good-night to the Season, Good-night!
poem by Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Plaint Of The Camel
Canary-Birds feed on sugar and seed,
Parrots have crackers to crunch:
And, as for the poodles, they tell me the noodles
Have chickens and cream for their lunch.
But there's never a question
About MY digestion—
Anything does for me!
'Cats, you're aware, can repose in a chair,
Chickens can roost upon rails;
Puppies are able to sleep in a stable,
And oysters can slumber in pails.
But no one supposes
A poor Camel dozes—
Any place does for me!
'Lambs are enclosed where it's never exposed,
Coops are constructed for hens:
Kittens are treated to houses well heated,
And pigs are protected by pens.
But a Camel comes handy
Wherever it's sandy—
Anywhere does for me!
'People would laugh if you rode a giraffe,
Or mounted the back of an ox;
It's nobody's habit to ride on a rabbit,
Or try to bestraddle a fox.
But as for a Camel, he's
Ridden by families—
Any load does for me!
'A snake is as round as a hole in the ground,
And weasels are wavy and sleek;
And no alligator could ever be straighter
Than lizards that live in a creek,
But a Camel's all lumpy
And bumpy and humpy—
Any shape does for me!'
poem by Charles Edward Carryl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Was It Just Yesterday?
Don't go biggie she held my hand with tears she did not, could not hide.
Oh God was it so long ago together to school, we enjoyed many years of ride?
Carrying her angelic body, her head on my shoulders which I did so adore,
Her hair in two poodles tied with ribbons to suit her dress and many more..
Tying her shoes and the home work we did, and the Ovaltine milk I made.
The Quran recitals and her speeches so crystal clear will never ever fade
And those cries, the heartache that brought many a worry with the endless pain..
Are remembrance sweet, with variable emotions still keeps coming again n again..
The chats, the discussion are my hearts sweet memories.. my golden souvenirs.
Now in silence the Lap top shares words flowing from my heart, I control my tears
As ‘all' grown up my little girl walks alone to the University..its her orientation nite!
Her spirits unbroken, chinheld high, God give her strength on this new flight
Come what may together we will always be, the distance hills and th oceans apart
The many years of course our disputes are now special moments and forever be in her heart
Thankful to the strength she left behind with the fragrance of her sweet love...
She dimmed many a fears, tears gave usnlight because she is God's blessing from above!
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Living Dead
Since I have come to years sedate
I see with more and more acumen
The bitter irony of Fate,
The vanity of all things human.
Why, just to-day some fellow said,
As I surveyed Fame's outer portal:
"By gad! I thought that you were dead."
Poor me, who dreamed to be immortal!
But that's the way with many men
Whose name one fancied time-defying;
We thought that they were dust and then
We found them living by their dying.
Like dogs we penmen have our day,
To brief best-sellerdom elected;
And then, "thumbs down," we slink away
And die forgotten and neglected.
Ah well, my lyric fling I've had;
A thousand bits of verse I've minted;
And some, alas! were very bad,
And some, alack! were best unprinted.
But if I've made my muse a bawd
(Since I am earthy as a ditch is),
I'll answer humbly to my God:
Most men at times have toyed with bitches.
Yes, I have played with Lady Rhyme,
And had a long and lovely innings;
And when the Umpire calls my time
I'll blandly quit and take my winnings.
I'll hie me to some Sleepydale,
And feed the ducks and pat the poodles,
And prime my paunch with cakes and ale,
And blether with the village noodles.
And then some day you'll idly scan
The Times obituary column,
And say: "Dear me, the poor old man!"
And for a moment you'll look solemn.
"So all this time he's been alive -
In realms of rhyme a second-rater . . .
But gad! to live to ninety-five:
Let's toast his ghost - a sherry, waiter!"
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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