I used to go to raves, but I was never into the whistles and white gloves.
quote by Rhona Mitra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
To a Lady Seen From the Train
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
When the grass is soft as the breast of doves
And shivering sweet to the touch?
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
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The Glove Of The Live Lady.
Her glove! It was rare Ben who sung it,
That best of gloves of the lady dead!
Another's here, as one had flung it
In anger at her lover's head.
Was it but this that it was made for,
One of a pair perhaps he'd paid for,
To have it favored in this fashion?
But gloves are gloves, and passion's passion!
And he, it may be, liked her better
For her rich anger as she threw it:
'Twas worth a glove to so upset her
And know he had the power to do it,
So he might kiss the white hands after
Her passion turned to tears and laughter!
poem by Robert Crawford
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Kid Gloves
A world of difference
A world so out of touch
Overwhelmed by everything
But wanting more so much
Call it blind frustration
Call it blind mans bluff
Call each other names
Your voices rude,
Your voices rough
Then you learn the lesson
That its cool to be so tough
Handle with kid gloves
Handle with kid gloves
Then you learn the lessons
Taught in school wont be enough
Put on your kid gloves
Put on your kid gloves
Then you learn the lesson
That its cool to be so tough
A world of indifference
Heads and hearts too full
Careless of the consequence
Of constant push and pull
Anger got bare knuckles
Anger play the fool
Anger wear a crown of thorns
Reverse the golden rule
Then you learn the lesson
That its tough to be so cool
Handle with kid gloves
Handle with kid gloves
Then you learn the weapons
And the ways of hard-knock school
Put on your kid gloves
Put on your kid gloves
Then you learn the lesson
That its tough to be so cool
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The white audiences thought I was white, my features being what they are, and at every performance I'd have to take off my gloves to prove I was a spade.
quote by Ethel Waters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chansons Innocentes: I
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far andwee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
poem by E.E. Cummings
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If people want bells and whistles and all of that, there are bells and whistles available. If they don't want bells and whistles there are places to go where they are not available.
quote by Jim Lehrer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whistles And Bells
Whistles and bells won't ever bring you love and happiness
She's never gonna give her heart the way that I would give
She's got you spinning round in circles, I can tell
With her lights, buzzers, whistles and bells
I see her running round this town in her fancy car
A girl who can't afford your hopes and dreams
But darlin' all those pretty toys won't help your broken heart
When she's through and sends you packin' back to me
Whistles and bells won't ever bring you love and happiness
She's never gonna give her heart the way that I would give
She's got you spinning round in circles, I can tell
With her lights, buzzers, whistles and bells
I cried those lonely tears until the day I realized
That you were hurting so much more than me
There are some things in this world that just don't have a price
Like the love that waits here for you patiently
Whistles and bells won't ever bring you love and happiness
She's never gonna give her heart the way that I would give
She's got you spinning round in circles, I can tell
With her lights, buzzers, whistles and bells
She's got you spinning round in circles, I can tell
With her lights, buzzers, whistles and bells
song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Willow-Pipes
So in the shadow by the nimble flood
He made her whistles of the willow wood,
Flutes of one note with mellow slender tone;
(A robin piping in the dusk alone).
Lively the pleasure was the wand to bruise,
And notch the light rod for its lyric use,
Until the stem gave up its tender sheath,
And showed the white and glistening wood beneath.
And when the ground was covered with light chips,
Grey leaves and green, and twigs and tender slips,
They placed the well-made whistles in a row
And left them for the careless wind to blow.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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The White Foxglove
Reynard, the fox, was asked to a party.
"Come", they said, in your Sunday best,
For we like good form, tho' the fun be hearty;
So all who dance must be formally dressed:
Black tail-coat and a shirt-front gleaming.
Brushed and burnished each dancing shoe,
Pantaloons with a silk braid seaming,
Clean white gloves of the snowiest hue.
This most especially -
Very especially -
Snow-white gloves of a spotless hue.
Reynard, the fox, as he dressed (says the fable)
Dreamed of the dance and his lady love,
Then he searched and he hunted in dresser and table,
But all he discovered was - one old glove!
A horrible glove, with a broad black stitching
Sorriest match for his stiff white shirt.
Could lover go wooing a maid so bewitching,
Wearing but one glove, grubby with dirt?
Oh, most disgustedly -
Very disgustedly -
Creased and crumpled and yellow with dirt.
Said Reynard, the fox, to the King of the Fairies,
"King, I come to you craving a dower.
Gloves! All as white as the lamb that was Mary's.
Pray you, fashion a pair from a magic flower.
>From a summer cloud, from the web of a spider.
Skin of a toadstool, a snowberry rind,
Down from the breast of a fledgling eider."
And the King said "Sure", for the King was kind.
Ever so graciously -
Gaily and graciously -
"Oke", said the Monarch, for he was kind.
Then Reynard, the fox, beheld a wonder:
A wave of his wand by the Fairy King -
And there, with the green leaves spreading under,
Sprang forth a sceptre, a magic thing
With garlands of gloves in a gleaming cluster,
White as the fleeces of new-shorn flocks
That fairy shepherds in Arcady muster.
And a pair they presented to Reynard, the fox.
They fitted him perfectly.
Said the King, "perfectly"
"Your Majesty.' Thank you!" said Reynard, the fox.
Reynard, the fox, made haste to the revel;
Beau of the ball, as they had to confess.
And the ladies sighed, "What a handsome devil?"
As for his lady - of course it was, "yes".
Then they danced and they fasted with merry laughter.
While Reynard weaved dreams in the clouds above.
And they called that blossom, from then ever after -
Men, foxes and fairies - the white Fox-glove.
Tall and so slenderly
Graceful and tenderly,
Swaying its sceptre - the White Fox-Glove.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Johnny One Note
Johnny could only sing one note
And the note he sings was this
Ah!
Poor johnny one-note
Sang out with gusto
And just overlorded the place
Poor johnny one-note
Yelled willy nilly
Until he was bleu in the face
For holding one note was his ace
Couldnt hear the brass
Couldnt hear the drum
He was in a class
By himself, by gum!
Poor johnny one-note
Got in aida
Indeed a great chance to be brave
He took his one note
Howled like the north wind
Brought forth wind that made critics rave,
While verdi turned round in his grave!
Couldnt hear the flute
Or the big trombone
Evry one was mute
Johnny stood alone.
Cats and dogs stopped yapping
Lions in the zoo
All were jealous of johnnys big trill
Thunder claps stopped clapping,
Traffic ceased its roar,
And they tell us niagra stood still.
He stopped the train whistles,
Boat whistles,
Steam whistles,
Cop whistles,
All whistles bowed to his skill
Sing johnny one-note,
Sing out with gusto and
Just overwhelm all the crowd
Ah!
So sing johnny one-note, out loud!!
Sing johnny one-note
Sing johnny one-note out loud!
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autobiographia
I had everything and luck: Rings of smoke
blown for me; sunlight safe inside the leaves
of cottonwoods; pure, simple harmonies
of church music, echoes of slave songs; scraps
of candy wrappers -- airborne. Everything.
Mother and father, brother, aunts, uncles;
chores and schoolwork and playtime. Everything.
I was given gloves against winter cold.
I was made to wear gloves when I gardened.
I was made to garden; taught to hold forks
in my left hand when cutting, in my right
when bringing food to my mouth. Everything.
I had clothes I was told not to wear outside;
a face you could clean up almost handsome;
I had friends to fight with and secrets, spread
all over the neighborhood; the best teachers,
white and colored. I'm not making this up.
I knew that I had everything. Still do.
poem by G.E. Patterson
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Kid Gloves
Shes wearing kid gloves
Will handle me carefully
Cause Ive got a history, cracked up and fragile
And bound to break easy
And if she could talk to me
What good would it do me
Its no secret where Ive been and I have worn so thin
And she can see through me
Chorus 1:
I dont believe a word of it
Cant come around to her now that Ive heard of it
Now that her soft touch is gone
Shes got her kid gloves on
Here is what Ive found
New york just gets me down
When the going got tough, I got a bus ticket
Back to my home town
And all the way I dreamed
Flesh wrapped in velveteen
And the road wrapped around me, the long lonely highway
Gulped down by a greyhound
(chorus 1)
Chorus 2:
I dont believe a word of it
Cant come around to her now that Ive heard of it
Wont come around cause Ill only get hurt and it
Now that her soft touch is gone
How could she ever go on
Without her kid gloves on
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Got Chocolate?
Snowflakes the size of marshmallows fall to the earth;
Frosty icy winds play havoc with her red curly hair.
She delights in frolicking in snow so deep;
Bundled up in bright green coat and leggings,
pink hat, scarf and gloves
she brightens up the gray day.
Grandpa dons his own snow gear, dark brown coat,
black ear muffs, gloves and red Santa hat;
shovel in hand he begins to clear the path
when 'she' playfully jumps into it re-snowing it
to Grandpa's chagrin as he grins
pretending to be annoyed.
but he re-shovels again with great patience.
The worst of the storm has passed. The white stuff
is the perfect setting this day, this Christmas Eve.
Cold, wet and tired Grandpa and granddaughter
come in to warm up to hot chocolate with marshmallows
and it reminds curly head of the snow fall today.
Grandpa's white mustache is chocolate dyed.
Curly Head's mouth says: 'Got chocolate? '
Bedtime has evolved, Santa's on his way.
Curly head has left him a treat in a cup.
Santa arrived;
he put Curly Head's presents under the tree
Santa's white mustache gave him away;
he looked at himself in the mantle mirror
and laughed a hearty, 'HO, HO, HO'
His white mustache was chocolate dyed
and he cried aloud:
'GOT CHOCOLATE?
'HO, HO, HO! '
© Mel Patterson,11-2011
poem by Mel Patterson
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Some whistles
Some whistles do frighten me like
That policeman’s whistle when I jaywalk,
That lewd whistle from an ill-mannered man
Pestering a sexy woman is another thing,
It is so demeaning, unkind, uncalled for
Some mean order like a teacher’s whistle
On a P.E. class to start an exercise in school
Or a kindergarten teacher whistling children to fall in line,
But one whistle really so intrigues me,
The whistle of a young man outside the gate
Of this house, on unholy hours of the night,
While I am writing poetry, this guy whistles
And whistles some curious songs in intermittent notes
Like a love song of a nightingale,
So sensual, so seductive, so magical, almost
Three times a night three times a week,
Till one day, my domestic helper got confused, and comes for my advice,
Why her stomach is mysteriously bloated.
You guessed it right, that magical whistle made her pregnant.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Mysterious Prodigy
A mysterious prodigy is playing the keys,
I dare not make movement, I'd better not sneeze!
He plays with white gloves, and tails on his coat,
The intensity is making me slit my own throat!
Then he lulls me back into delirious dreams...
poem by Joshua Dinkin
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Its Winter again
It’s not yet snow but I can smell it
Sounds of rubbing hands and bodies freezing
The sip of hot coffee and closed window panes
Looks like its winter again
Snow and fog and the feeling of cold
Snow and fog and celebrations unfold
The late sunlight brings thousands of smiles
The early evenings and the silent miles and miles
The train whistles and only whistles
The windows are closed with passengers and shivers
The touch of wool and the warmth at home
And outside it’s a snowstorm
Its time to celebrate these cold evenings
Entire world celebrates, as there are many things winter brings
The coziness of bed
The unmatched taste of hot bread
Those pink and white colours everywhere
And the walk through that cold air
Winter is here to make all of us smile
Winter is here to stay for a little while
Winter is here for celebrations
Winter is here for hot chocolate temptations
poem by Amita Singh
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Rip
It can't be the passing of time that casts
That white shadow across the waters
Just offshore.
I shiver a little, with the evening.
I turn down the steep path to find
What's left of the river gold.
I whistle a dog lazily, and lazily
A bird whistles me.
Close by a big river, I am alive in my own country,
I am home again.
Yes: I lived here, and here, and my name,
That I carved young, with a girl's, is healed over, now,
And lies sleeping beneath the inward sky
Of a tree's skin, close to the quick.
It's best to keep still.
But:
There goes that bird that whistled me down here
To the river a moment ago.
Who is he? A little white barn owl from Hudson's Bay,
Flown out of his range here, and, if he wants to,
He can be the body that casts
That white shadow across the waters
Just offshore.
poem by James Arlington Wright
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White Eggs And Brown Eggs
White eggs and brown eggs of this world,
Who the cap fits must surely wear it;
Because, not all what is seen are real as they are.
Pinch, inch, winch, cinch, finch;
Use the hand gloves to protect any injuries!
For the place of the purchase of your love is like,
The depending facts of the mind! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Dirty White Boy
Hey, baby, if youre feelin down
I know whats good for you all day
Are you worried what your friends see
Will it ruin your reputation lovin me
cause Im a dirty white boy
Yeah a dirty white boy
A dirty white boy
Dont drive no big black car
Dont like no hollywood movie star
You want me to be true to you
You dont give a damn what I do to you
Im just a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, dirty white boy
Dirty white boy
Well, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, yeah, dirty white boy
A dirty white boy
Ive been in trouble since I dont know when
Im in trouble now and I now somehow Ill find trouble again
Im a loner, but Im never alone
Every night I get one step closer to the danger zone
cause Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, yeah, dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy
Cmon, cmon boy
Dirty white boy, white boy
Dirty white boy, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy
Hey, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, yeah, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, dirty white boy, yeah
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who loves, raves.
quote by Lord Byron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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