Idealism that makes no distinction between areas where our national interest lies and those from which it is remote does no good for America. The weariness of the post-Versailles, post-Korea, post-Vietnam eras is never far from the national mood.
quote by Dick Morris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Whipping Post
I been run down, I been lied to,
I dont know why I let that mean woman make me a fool.
She took all my money, wrecked my new car.
Now shes with one of my goodtime buddies,
Theyre drinkin in some crosstown bar.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.
My friends tell me, that Ive been such a fool,
And I have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin you.
Drown myself in sorrow, and I look at what youve down.
But nothin seems to change, the bad times stay the same,
And I cant run.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.
Transcribed by rich kulawiec, [email protected]
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Whipping Post
I been run down, i been lied to,
I don't know why i let that mean woman make me a fool.
She took all my money, wrecked my new car.
Now she's with one of my goodtime buddies,
They're drinkin' in some crosstown bar.
Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.
My friends tell me, that i've been such a fool,
And i have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin' you.
Drown myself in sorrow, and i look at what you've down.
But nothin' seems to change, the bad times stay the same,
And i can't run.
Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.
Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.
Transcribed by rich kulawiec, [email protected]
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Do Not Post Your Poem Here
Do not post your poem here
Unless you've something worth a say!
You must not waste a space like this,
For space can waste away!
Do not post your poem here
With words which make no sense!
Be careful when you post it here
That you use the proper tense!
Do not post your poem here
Just to fill a space with words!
A poem should be well thought out,
Was it meant to be absurd?
Do not post your poem here
If in cliches you would write.
A poem should be fresh, yes sharp -
You'll know when it's just right!
Do not post your poem here
Just to see yourself in print.
You're wasting others time you know
With such, self centred stints!
I wil not post my poem here,
This one does not exist,
But did I tell you at the start
That I'm a nihilist?
poem by Joe Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
10/31/2007 Command Post Controller
I work in the command post,
You wouldn’t know there everywhere from coast to coast.
We work while everyone else is wake and sleeping,
We do things that help our nations safe keeping.
No one understands the command post because,
No one fully grasps what the command post does.
Know this though,
Controllers are at work even in the snow.
Holidays we are still here,
24-7 every day of the year.
I work in the command post,
Family I miss the most.
But I don’t gripe nor complain,
I’m proud to serve I have no shame.
Next time your working your nine to five,
Remember controllers actions help keep you alive.
When you lay your head down and asleep you drift,
Remember a command post controller is still on shift.
poem by Coreena Dejesus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It took us 50 months in Germany, post World War II to go from the end of the war to a national election.
quote by Frank Carlucci
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
October the Post Office Cat
Some thought she was a stray
That had come for scraps along the way
That might be left from the lunch
Of the post office staff; a kindly bunch.
But others knew her for what she was,
October the Post Office Cat.
She had a duty like any employee
To be on time and serve the public daily
And as any other as all know,
Had an official position just so.
October the Post Office Cat.
As soon as the walks were swept
And the doors were opened for the daily visits,
She found her space upon the walk
A bit removed so that none would balk
As they came to do their task or mail whatever.
October the Post Office Cat.
She often times was given the duty
Of minding some child whose custodian
Had business to attend
In dealing with the letters or packages within,
So she laid there carefully in the sun
Till end of day when her work was done.
October the Post Office Cat.
She was known by all who came along that way
Parking carefully throughout the day
Making sure that she was not disturbed
As she, her duties did perform.
Watching and listening to the sounds of pleasure
That only can be bestowed on one to treasure.
Yet adults knew not how to measure.
October the Post Office Cat.
On the post across the way
A yellow sign was placed on display
By the lady who ran the insurance office
Who wanted to be sure that others notice
That this was the path taken each day
As the cat came to begin her official stay.
October the Post Office Cat.
There came a time when she did not appear
And it was certainly a time to fear
That something had befallen this special one
Who worked so hard to please everyone
And the sign was removed so that all would know
That she wouldn't be there anymore.
October the Post Office Cat.
Then mysteriously the sign reappeared
On the post for all to read
Which proclaimed that this was the crossing
Reserved for the cat that all were missing.
And it's said that she comes each day
Although never seen by adults on their way
But the children know that she is there.
October the Post Office Cat.
poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The oak has long been an enduring and mighty tree. It is truly a part of our national heritage and it merits the formal distinction of America's National Tree.
quote by Bob Goodlatte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The past is a guide post, not a hitching post.
quote by L. Thomas Holdcroft
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Turning Pages
Naiveté in younger years
And meager sense between my ears
What interested me the most
Were comic strips within the Post.
“Deep in Bengalla
Woods within the famed Skull Cave
The masked Phantom waits...”
Throughout advancing teenage years
My interest turned to social spheres
Again the Post is what I read
To see the people who were wed.
“Maryann Fulmer
And Nolan Zane Fullerton
Were married March 3rd….”
Turning the pages to sixty
I sport a silver-white goatee.
I still read the Post but only
Familiar obituaries.
“Nolan Fullerton
Of Whitehall, Pennsylvania
Passed away Monday…”
I keep turning the pages daily
Until the death bell tolls for me.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Madness Itch
A post surgery sensation...
Described but has to be experienced.
When areas of the body,
Had been stitched and bandaged.
And a healing process begins...
That isn't funny one bit.
Some say to 'pat'.
While others suggest to gentle rub.
That madness itch...
Seems as if steel wool,
Would scratch that itch to satisfy...
Like nothing will or does.
A post surgery sensation...
Described but has to be experienced.
When areas of the body,
Had been stitched and bandaged.
And a healing process begins...
That isn't funny one bit.
'Hi neighbor.
May I use your rake when you're done? '
~Getting ready to do some backyard work, hmmm? ~
'Yeah, I might need your assistance! '
~No problem.
Just show me what it is you want me to do.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There is no post-9/11. Everything from now until the end of time is post-9/11.
quote by Joe Bob Briggs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Legislation passed in the aftermath of September 11, 2001 enhanced our intelligence capabilities and strengthened our national defense, but until now our nation's immigration policies have not adapted to the needs of a post-September 11th world.
quote by Chris Chocola
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Last Post.
The last post sounds and echoes round.
The neat and well kept burial ground.
Head stones in rows beneath the sky
to mark where our dead heroes lie.
Standing as if still on parade.
Each headstone looking newly made.
It is one way we show respect.
No more no less than I expect
Head stones don’t only signify
that battle weary soldiers die
They also serve who wait for men
who will not see their home again.
The last post makes us realise
That war destroys their families.
Each time I hear the last post sound
I’m filled with sadness so profound.
Tears spring unbidden from my eyes,
they always take me by surprise.
I’m not ashamed to let them flow
Because I’m old enough to know.
That real men aren’t afraid to cry
Despite the ancient common lie.
That men don’t let emotions show
and should not let their tear drops flow.
When I hear the last post sound
I can recall the battle ground.
Where so many comrades still lie
in foreign fields beneath the sky.
The last post serves to honour all
brave soldiers who sadly fall.
Not only friends but enemies.
Death selects quite randomly.
Young widows weep and mothers cry.
They have the right and so do I.
Tuesday,31 August 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beyond The Sky At Night
Here we go touring again
The post-Holocaust
Not quite post-Holocene
Both driver and guide -
The worst psychopaths -
Learned their route from worse despots
The moon no longer
So nebulous;
The sun still perilously dear
All the dusty fruits of the sky
Nearer the harvest;
Farther away.
poem by Jay D. Allard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We are so Post-Modern that we don't realize how Post-Modern we are anymore.
quote by Larry Wall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Post Post-modern Man
If I had a hammer
Id wake up my neighbors
Pounding out a rhythm
All about you
If I had a pencil
Id push me some paper
Id build a skyscraper
To get close to you
If I had a lasso
Id sail out the window
And land on an island
Next to you
If I had a hot rod
Id fasten up my seatbelt
And break the speed limit
Gettin to you
But I aint got a hammer
And I aint got a pencil
And I aint got a lasso
So Im doing it the hard way
Like a post post-modern man
If I had a credit card
Id clear me a pathway
Through the deepest jungle
Right to your door
If I had a camera
Id snap away my fingers
And collect up the pictures
Of you of course
But I aint got a hot rod
And I aint got a credit card
No chance for a camera
So Im doing it the hard way
Like a post post-modern man
Well I aint got a hammer
And I aint got a lasso
No chance for a camera
So Im doing it the hard way
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When more is less
Could be better to write more
And perhaps to post less?
And after writing more, be sure
To only post one’s best?
Could it be
That the quality
Might improve
by leaps and bounds
Or would it be,
that quantity
Is more important
Than the sounds?
At any rate
It’s ne’er too late
To reread what it tis
That one’s written
Aye, ere one posts in haste…
Give to us the fine taste
Of only the best…
That you’ve written
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Where cries begin when a broken tear smiles
I rest under a shady tree
Autumnal faded leaves tremble
with the peevish wind.
It looks like a Beethoven's symphony.
And I gaze at a faraway roof top flag post.
Torn flag waves in its sad rhythm
But the flag post stands straight
Like a young recruit.
Oh! If I am a newly painted flag post in the battlefield of life
Then I could have teach the flag how to show its true colors.
* To my unseen friend the silent song smith Nick Percowycz.
No palpitation heard since a long time from your territory. [Anchorville/Michigan] Are you passing well my dear?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!