Good merchandise, even hidden, soon finds buyers.
quote by Titus Maccius Plautus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Merchandise
To the merchandise of gold,
To the merchandise of silver,
To the merchandise of bronze,
To the merchandise of ivory,
To the merchandise of precious stone,
To the merchandise of brass,
To the merchandise of pearls,
To the merchandise of cars,
To the merchanidse of bauxite,
To the merchandise of fine linen,
To the merchandise of houses,
To the merchandise of wine,
To the merchandise of oil,
To the merchandise of luxuries,
To the merchandise of weapons,
To the merchandise of coffee,
To the merchandise of purple,
To the merchandise of wheat,
To the merchandise of sheep,
To the merchandise of timber,
To the merchandise of cattle,
To the merchandise of iron,
To the merchandise of horses,
To the merchandise of fruits,
To the merchandise of frankincense,
To the merchandise of cocoa,
To the merchandise of scarlet,
To the merchandise of precious wood,
To the merchandise of silk,
To the merchandise of chariots,
To the merchandise of commercial planes,
To the merchandise of slaves,
To the merchandise of private jets,
To the merchandise of marbles,
To the merchandise of war planes,
To the merchandise of scented wood,
To the merchandise of fine flour,
To the merchandise of incense,
To the merchandise of cinnamon,
And to the merchandise of fragrant ointment;
But the day comes when we will all cry.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Toi
Give the shields of gold to Toi,
The King of Hamath;
Like the Arameans of Damascus.
But the bride of bondage is like,
The merchandise of cinnamon.
It is all around us,
Of the merchandise of wine;
It is all around you,
Of the merchandise of frankincense;
It is all around me,
Of the merchandise of oil;
But the merchandise of fine flour is like,
The merchandise of wheat.
The merchandise of flowers for my lover,
The merchandise of cattle for my family,
The merchandise of sheep for my neighbour,
The merchandise of horses for my friends,
With the merchandise of chariots and slaves to remember!
Give the shields of gold to Toi,
The king of Hamath;
Like the merchandise of arms and,
The merchandise of luxuries.
Give the shields of gold to Toi,
The King of Hamath;
For weeping and wailing will be heard very soon.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sea Captain
The merchandise of gold in the land of gold,
The merchandise of silver in the land of silver,
The merchandise of bronze in the land of bronze,
The merchandise of precious stones in the land of stones,
The merchandise of fine linen in the land of thread,
The merchandise of pearls in the land of pearls,
The merchandise of silk in the land of wool,
The merchandise of scarlet in the land of clothes,
The merchandise of ivory in the land of elephants,
The merchandise of scented wood in the land of timber,
The merchandise of brass in the land of metals,
The merchandise of precious wood in the land of trees,
The merchandise of wool in the land of sheep,
And the merchandise of marble in the land of marbles;
For this is the message to the sea captain.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Today's Merchandise
Slumbering to the dawning darkness,
Tonight’s night mare, anchoring in predators
Who will feast on our poor souls
Because they traded their own
in today’s merchandise.
I will not slumber, to dream again.
In my bed, I will stay awake.
I will not trade, to have it all
In my solitude, I will reside
To be saved from today’s merchandise
Dropping values, picking passions
The kind of trade;
Cheap sex, traded morals
The day’s merchandise;
But I will not trade in today’s merchandise.
Men shed tears and reap fears
in today’s merchandise.
The profit we earn
is a troubled conscience
Making it unworthy, in today’s merchandise
poem by Timothy muggaga
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The Bargain Store
My life is like unto a bargain store
And I may have just what youre lookin for
If you dont mind the fact that all the merchandise is used
But with a little mending it could be as good as new
Why you take for instance this old broken heart
If you will just replace the missing parts
You would be surprised to find how good it really is
Take it and you never will be sorry that you did
The bargain store is open come inside
You can easily afford the price
Love is all you need to purchase all the merchandise
And I will guarantee youll be completely satisfied
Take these old used memories from the past
And these broken dreams and plans that didnt last
Ill trade them for a future, I cant use them anymore
Ive wasted love but I still have some more
The bargain store is open come inside
You can easily afford the price
Love is all you need to purchase all the merchandise
And I can guarantee youll be completely satisfied
My life is like unto a bargain store
And I may have just what youre lookin for
If you dont mind the fact that all the merchandise is used
With a little mendin it could be as good as new
The bargain store is open, come inside
The bargain store is open, come inside
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Merchandise
MERCHANDISE! Merchandise! Tortoiseshell, spices,
Carpets and Indigo sent o’er the highseas;
Mothero’Pearl from the Solomon Isles
Brought by a brigantine ten thousand miles.
Rubber from Zanzibar, tea from NangPo,
Copra from Haiti, and wine from Bordeaux;
Ships, with topgallants and royals unfurled,
Are bringing in freights from the ends of the world
Crazy old windjammers, manned by Malays,
With ratridden bulkheads and creaking old stays,
Reeking of bilge and of paint and of pitch
That’s how these oceangirt islands grew rich:
And tramps, heavy laden, and liners untold
Will lease a new life to a nation grown old.
Merchandise! Merchandise! England was made
By her Men and her Ships and her OVERSEAS TRADE.
Widen your harbours, your docks and your quays,
Hazard your wares on the seven wide seas,
Run out your railways and hew out your coal,
For only by trade can a country keep whole.
Feed up your furnaces, fashion your steel,
Stick to your bargains and pay on the deal;
Rich is your birthright, and well you’ll be paid.
If you keep in good faith with your Overseas Trade.
Learn up geography, work out your sums,
Build up your commerce, and pull down your slums;
Sail on a Plimsoll that marks a full hold:
Your Overseas Trade means a harvest of gold.
Bring in the palmoil and pepper you’ve bought,
But send out ten times the amount you import:
Trade your inventions, your labour and sweat:
Your Overseas Traffic will keep ye from debt.
Hark to the song of the shuttle and loom,
Keep up your commerce or crawl to your tomb
Study new methods and open new lines,
Quicken your factories, foundries and mines,
Think of what Drake did, and Raleigh and Howe
And waste not their labours by slacking it now:
Work is life’s currency earn what you’re worth,
And send out your ships to the ends of the earth.
Deepbosomed mothers with widefashioned hips
Will bear ye good sons for the building of ships
Good sons for your ships and good ships for your trade
That’s how the Peace of the World will be made!
So send out your strong to the forests untrod,
Work for yourselves and your neighbours and
Keep this good England the home of the free,
With Merchandise, Men and good Ships on the
Merchandise! Merchandise! Good honest Merchandise!
Merchandise, Men and Good Ships on the Sea.
------------------------- ------------------------------------------------- ------
poem by John Milton Hayes
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Jakarta Less Crowed As Ramadan Ends
days do not go through too many faces
in night market I pause crowd amble paces
human tide in pace poses narrow ways
suburban night market lures in customers
surprises fresh eyes potential new buyers
merchandise food stalls await any takers
darkness smiles as an adventure delights
earlier we ate at half deserted walkway cafes
Ramadan ends lures home city villagers
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Men are at mercy
Men are venders and women, buyers.
Men are eager to get more buyers.
Women are fed up with more venders.
Men live at the mercy of women.
09.11.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Today, there are also buyers and sellers of all these energy commodities, just like there are buyers and sellers of food commodities and many other commodities.
quote by Kenneth Lay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet Finds....
The poet finds whatever the moon could not see,
The poet finds whatever the earth does not know,
The poet finds whatever the sun could not see,
The poet finds whatever others do not know,
The poet finds whatever the stars could not see,
So why do the heathen rage and the people plot vanity? !
For she who is pregnant is closer to us,
And the hart pants after streams of water.
Your tears have been your food night and day,
And like your inner self in the lan dof your muse;
But the poet finds whatever the sun could not see.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Junk is the ultimate merchandise. The junk merchant does not sell his product to the consumer, he sells the consumer to the product. He does not improve and simplify his merchandise, he degrades and simplifies the client.
quote by William Seward Burroughs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Junk is the ultimate merchandise. The junk merchant does not sell his product to the consumer, he sells the consumer to the product. He does not improve and simplify his merchandise, he degrades and simplifies the client.
quote by William S. Burroughs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Asked about the Quality
He left the office where he'd been given
a trivial, poorly paid job
(something like eight pounds a month, including bonuses)
left at the end of the dreary work
that kept him bent all afternoon,
came out at seven and walked off slowly,
idling his way down the street. Good-looking,
and interesting: showing as he did that he'd reached
his full sensual capacity.
He'd turned twenty-nine the month before.
He idled his way down the main street
and the poor side-streets that led to his home.
Passing in front of a small shop that sold
cheap and flimsy merchandise for workers,
he saw a face inside, a figure
that compelled him to go in, and he pretended
he wanted to look at some coloured handkerchiefs.
He asked about the quality of the handkerchiefs
and how much they cost, his voice choking,
almost silenced by desire.
And the answers came back in the same mood,
distracted, the voice hushed,
offering hidden consent.
They kept on talking about the merchandise
but the only purpose: that their hands might touch
over the handkerchiefs, that their faces, their lips,
might move close together as though by chance
a moment's meeting of limb against limb.
Quickly, secretly, so the shop owner sitting at the back
wouldn't realize what was going on.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Rapid City, South Dakota
(kinky friedman)
Just a ragged kid in overalls, he thumbed a ride one day
He told me, anywhere youre goings on my way.
But as we passed by big als drive-in his eyes began to flash
He was leavin rapid city mighty fast.
He said, i hope to God she finds the good-bye letter that I wrote her
But the mail dont move so fast in rapid city, south dakota.
Well, he left her just a blanket of snow upon the farm
And that dont keep your conscience very warm.
He said his friends were too durn country and his pa was too damn mean
And there werent no money pumpin gasoline.
And her gentle eyes, the merchandise of dreams the peddler sold her
Who left her there alone in rapid city, south dakota.
Now the reason he was goin, I aint sure I could say,
Mightve been the rodeo in santa f.
theres a doctor in chicago, I know shell be all right
He told himself as he stared into the night.
And he said, i hope to God she finds the good-bye letter that I wrote her
But the mail dont move so fast in rapid city, south dakota.
And all her people treatin her just like they never knowed her
Lord, the winters passin slow in rapid city, south dakota.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My People Die
My people die when they are asleep,
Kicking and punching their way to the heavens.
The wonder of peace suggests diplomas of good,
The good say goodbye to the morning.
My personality is finer than the workers of good,
It causes a stop and finds a treasure of gold.
The nature of some discovery sings to the tune,
And this melodious sound finds truth, in truth.
poem by Naveed Akram
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In My Dreams Song
In my dreams
You will swimm
L'océan
That God made
Many years ago
In my dreams
L'océan
Will always be there
For the ships to come
From a long distance
To deliver food and merchandise
To the stores
So that the owners of the stores
Can sell their food and merchandise
To the consumer
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Lament
Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun,
Those crags in childhood that I used to climb?
Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain,
Hidden is the heart.
A day of cloud, a lifetime falls between,
Gone are the heather moors and the pure stream,
Gone are the rocky places and the green,
Hidden, hidden under sorrow is yonder mountain,
Hidden, hidden.
O storm and gale of tears, whose blinding screen
Makes weather of grief, snow's drifting curtain
Palls th'immortal heights once seen.
Hidden, hidden is the heart,
Hidden, hidden is the heart.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Mistrust the man who finds everything good, the man who finds everything evil and still more the man who is indifferent to everything.
quote by Johann Kaspar Lavater
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By doing good with his money, a man, as it were, stamps the image of God upon it, and makes it pass, current for the merchandise of heaven.
quote by John Rutledge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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