Even though I disagree with many of the changes, when I see the privates graduate at the end of the day, when they walk off that drill field at the end of the ceremony, they are still fine privates; outstanding, well motivated privates.
quote by R. Lee Ermey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Back in the old Corp, we weren't training those privates to infiltrate into the peacetime Marine Corp. We were training those privates to go to Vietnam.
quote by R. Lee Ermey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
We had times in '66 and '67 when we would pick up a platoon of privates out of the receiving barracks the week before we even graduated the platoon that we were on!
quote by R. Lee Ermey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Well, the wonderful thing about making movies, oddly enough, is that they're sort of highly motivated graduate studies in one or another field.
quote by Sydney Pollack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Concert Party: Busseboom
The stage was set, the house was packed,
The famous troop began;
Our laughter thundered, act by act;
Time light as sunbeams ran.
Dance sprang and spun and neared and fled,
Jest chirped at gayest pitch,
Rhythm dazzled, action sped
Most comically rich.
With generals and lame privates both
Such charms worked wonders, till
The show was over – lagging loth
We faced the sunset chill;
And standing on the sandy way,
With the cracked church peering past,
We heard another matinée,
We heard the maniac blast
Of barrage south by Saint Eloi,
And the red lights flaming there
Called madness: Come, my bonny boy,
And dance to the latest air.
To this new concert, white we stood;
Cold certainty held our breath;
While men in tunnels below Larch Wood
Were kicking men to death.
poem by Edmund Blunden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Why WILL The Girls Refuse? - Parody
Why will the girls refuse, mamma,
why will the girls refuse?
For every time one turns me down
I throw a fit of blues.
how can a guy go gad about
with no-one to amuse,
when each proposal meets with frown –
some clues, mamma, your views?
Why can’t they be content, mamma,
when taken out to dine
to Fred’s fine fish and chip bazaar
with water ‘stead of wine, -
it went down well with you and pa
before the parking fine,
so if we walk – no need for car –
why will Miss Prissy whine?
I’m sure I’ve done my best, mamma,
to keep them at my heels,
and yet if ever we’re alone
each wretched creature squeals
should I embrace a funny bone
or wonder what conceals
the iron curtain of a bra
which never one unpeels.
I only weigh five hundred pounds
must wait grow hand in hand
with weight whence maestro singer's sounds
are heard throughout the land?
And why on Earth must out of bounds
my girth appear? I'm grand,
although I cannot ride to hounds -
why won't ONE understand?
I’m only fifty-four, mamma,
I long for one sure fling, -
if plastic painted proper shines
why won’t one wear my ring?
I’ve duly learned my deaf-dumb signs
so studiously to bring
a new dimension to my lines –
each answers sharply, stings.
I try to psycho-analyse
the promises unkept,
I’ve kept my privates undersize
well hidden though I wept.
I’ve tried ignoring petty lies,
ate humble pies, and yet
I wait for one who ‘yes! ’ replies
to sighs none intercept...
I've tried to post on Internet
in I.M., verse, and prose,
I've tried to run a contest yet,
though they queue up in rows
for pointless points they hedge their bet,
whenever I propose
they shy off even distance pet,
communication close.
If one's invited to a bar
there's someone else she'd choose.
Some say I seem far too bizarre
no socks and two left shoes,
tied up with string from old guitar, -
it cost too much to lose, -
while last semester's hershey bar
their judgement must confuse.
Why will the girls refuse, Mamma,
why will the girls refuse?
when shy it doesn't get me far,
when bold they blow a fuse!
when no holds barred the siren car
my motives may accuse,
and when I wish on shooting star
they still, they still refuse!
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Standing On Ceremony
Remember your manners
Will you please take your hat off
Your mother is dying
Listen to her cough
We were always standing on ceremony
We were always standing on ceremony
Cant you show some respect please
Although you didnt in real life
Your mother is dying
And I God damn well hope youre satisfied
We were always standing on ceremony
We were always standing on ceremony
So please play another song on that juke box
Please play another pretty sad song for me
And if that phone rings, tell them that you havent seen me
If that last phone rings
Tell them that you havent seen me for weeks
And this one heres on me
Standing on ceremony, standing on ceremony
Standing on ceremony, standing on ceremony
Standing on ceremony, you were always standing on ceremony
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Drill Baby Drill
DRILL BABY DRILL
“Oh-oh say can you see”
Any beach-sand oil free
This pollution debris
A gift from corporate B P
DRILL BABY DRILL
This sea-borne disaster
Oil hardened like plaster
Needs a plug-the-leak master
To stop the oil gushing faster
DRILL BABY DRILL
Beautiful pelican creatures
Once with beautiful winged features
Now bogged down in oily slime
No longer enjoy their flying time
DRILL BABY DRILL
B P drilling for profits and dividends
Caused havoc with too many of natures friends
Along with much of the seafaring life
Who share the pelicans’ oily strife
DRILL BABY DRILL
The Gulf of Mexico now in distress
Is due to B P’s preventable oil laden mess
We’ve only one planet so we better beware
No more DRILL BABY DRILL-give Earth its due care
poem by Stanley Cooper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The bad news motivated the drill instructors that much more.
quote by R. Lee Ermey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Hogarth Experiment Part 3
Police Constable Broadworth
was sent from the station
to go to see if he could locate Joe Harper
after a frantic phone call from his surgery.
It would seem as if he had missed
several of his appointments,
which was not like Joe at all.
He cycled down the same lane
where Joe Harper’s car was parked.
He could hear his car still running.
The scene that greeted him
was not he had expected.
The car was in the lane,
but Joe Harper was no where about.
Broadworth shouted out his name,
but got no reply.
Broadworth dismounted from his bike.
He felt it strange that Jo Harper
would have left his car running.
Broadworth searched the area
after turning off the engine of the car.
Joe Harper was nowhere to be found.
It was as if he had vanished into thin air.
He put his bike in the back of the car,
then drove it to the nearest farm
and telephoned the station
to inform them what he had found.
Even though the war was over
the battery near the town
was still occupied by three men.
It was about a half a mile from the hamlet.
The three privates there
were brewing themselves a cup of tea.
A humming sound unlike anything
they had ever heard grew louder.
They stood up and grabbed their rifles.
They gazed around,
but nothing could they see.
Suddenly shadows passed over them.
Each felt a chill run down their spine.
They loaded theirs rifles and fired
as the shadows came overhead again.
They reloaded and fired a second volley.
The humming sound got louder
as if it was amplified a thousand times.
After they fired each volley
one of the soldiers fell.
There seemed no defence
from these shadows from the sky.
To be continued…
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It is soooooo necessary to get the basic skills, because by the time you graduate, undergraduate or graduate, that field would have totally changed from your first day of school.
quote by Leigh Steinberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
If you disagree with me, fine! Because that's the great thing about America, we can disagree!
quote by Michael Stipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Winning the Outstanding Contribution award is great, because you know you have won in advance. Previously, I have been really nervous during the ceremony because you have no idea if you are going to get called up on stage. This time I could relax and enjoy myself.
Ode to Bouncer (is this your dog too?)
Ode To Bouncer
Playful and stinky
First come to mind
With faithful and honest
Not too far behind
These things are what make him our dog
large brown eyes
Big Black wet nose
On my pillow he lies
In canine repose
He’s poopy and snoopy
With an aura of funky
Ears sad and droopy
Face like a monkey
These things are what make him our dog
Cat hater, butt sniffer
A foot warmer at night
Crotch prodder, leg lifter
He’s been known to bite
In case of a prowler
No Protector of mine
Cowers in the shower
Growls turn to a whine
These things are what make him our dog
He’s drippy and leaky
And way too trusting
Loves toys that are squeaky
Eats food that’s disgusting
Licks me awake
Eyes happily bugging
His neck I could break
Instead I just hug him
These things are what make him our dog
He falls in the pool
Sleeps upside down
Not looking too cool
With jowls in a frown
An aversion to grooming
Addicted to grime
Sees a bath looming
As a capital crime
These things are what makes him our dog
Gnaws on our shoes
Leaves presents of scat
And then when accused
Blames it all on the cat
With small kids he’s ok
round their food can’t be trusted
Cookie crumbs in his beard
Hangs head low, knows he’s busted
These things are what makes him our dog
Sits up on his heinie
at his supper table station
Looks piteous and tiny
Beggar waiting for donation
Licking his privates, languid and lazy
Out of my chair I must shove him
My family and I all must be crazy
So why in the hell do we love him?
These things are what makes him our dog
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The fact is that we cannot drill our way to independence. We cannot drill our way to freedom, and we cannot drill our way to create jobs in this country.
quote by Jay Inslee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lines on London
They once in wilderness did ride
On beast with horn and shaggy hide-
A savage goat or unicorn,
But now parade in uniform ;
As gay as ancient Knight or Lord,
With their grand plumes, and belt and swords.
Their graceful movements at their drill
Doth all with admiration fill,
And the chief glory it was won
By the encampment of London ;
For they at every tournament
For drill are the chief ornament.
So skillfully they sword do wield,
Victorious on every field ;
For victory's graven on their shield
Doth make their rivals for to yield ;
Drill companies they out maneuver
From Newfoundland to Vancouver.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Yankee Volunteers
'A surgeon of the United States' army says that on inquiring of
the Captain of his company, he found that NINE-TENTHS of the men
had enlisted on account of some female difficulty.'—Morning Paper.
Ye Yankee Volunteers!
It makes my bosom bleed
When I your story read,
Though oft 'tis told one.
So—in both hemispheres
The women are untrue,
And cruel in the New,
As in the Old one!
What—in this company
Of sixty sons of Mars,
Who march 'neath Stripes and Stars,
With fife and horn,
Nine-tenths of all we see
Along the warlike line
Had but one cause to join
This Hope Forlorn?
Deserters from the realm
Where tyrant Venus reigns,
You slipp'd her wicked chains,
Fled and out-ran her.
And now, with sword and helm,
Together banded are
Beneath the Stripe and Star
Embroider'd banner!
And is it so with all
The warriors ranged in line,
With lace bedizen'd fine
And swords gold-hilted—
Yon lusty corporal,
Yon color-man who gripes
The flag of Stars and Stripes—
Has each been jilted?
Come, each man of this line,
The privates strong and tall,
'The pioneers and all,'
The fifer nimble—
Lieutenant and Ensign,
Captain with epaulets,
And Blacky there, who beats
The clanging cymbal—
O cymbal-beating black,
Tell us, as thou canst feel,
Was it some Lucy Neal
Who caused thy ruin?
O nimble fifing Jack,
And drummer making din
So deftly on the skin,
With thy rat-tattooing—
Confess, ye volunteers,
Lieutenant and Ensign,
And Captain of the line,
As bold as Roman—
Confess, ye grenadiers,
However strong and tall,
The Conqueror of you all
Is Woman, Woman!
No corselet is so proof
But through it from her bow
The shafts that she can throw
Will pierce and rankle.
No champion e'er so tough,
But's in the struggle thrown,
And tripp'd and trodden down
By her slim ankle.
Thus always it was ruled:
And when a woman smiled,
The strong man was a child,
The sage a noodle.
Alcides was befool'd,
And silly Samson shorn,
Long, long ere you were horn,
Poor Yankee Doodle!
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Emptiness
some are motivated
supposedly by his words
and wish to be nearer
some are motivated by
the world's events
and wish to know the
reasons behind
some are motivated
by the emptiness
in themselves
wondering whether
indeed it is emptiness there
or something more
something more
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Graduate
Can I graduate
Can I graduate
Can I look in faces that I meet
Can I get my punk ass off the street
Ive been living on for so long
Can I graduate
To the bastard talking down to me
Your whipping boy calamity
Cross your fingers, Im going to knock it all down
Can I graduate
Echo fading we cant let go
She goes walking by in slow mo
Sell your heart out for a buck
Go on fade out before I get stuck
Talking to somebody like you
Do you live the days you go through
Will this song live on long after we do
Can I graduate
Can I look in faces that I meet
Can I get my punk ass off the street
Wont die on the vine I want to knock it all down
Can I graduate
Echo fading, candle blow
Did you flash out long ago
Cross my fingers, I dont know
Someone poked you down below
Can I graduate
Can I graduate
Can I graduate
Can I graduate
Can I graduate
Can I get my punk ass off the street
Can I look in faces that I meet
Im not waiting here for you to die
Will this song live on long after we do
song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Disagree That Helping People Is What We're About
i'll have to say
i disagree
for all the 16 years i've had seen
heard and read
war
hate
sorrow
pain
murderrape
abuse
and even death
that don't sound like help to me
everyday i walk the streets
of cold and emptyness
while all the people
who've died before
run through my mind
you don't help them
you just walk on by
and i wanna know why?
if we were sent here
to help and care for others
then why are we doing the oppasite
and hurting them instead
that is why i can't agree
but all i can do is disagree
while the world carries on
full of war and hate
by: crystal sonier
age: 15
poem by Natalia Anna Joelie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rupert Murdoch
Bravo Rudi
You are the fat cat of plagues
The down under Baron
For the information dark age
Tantalizing us with your scandals
Building heroes to defame
Selling Margaret and Dear Tony
Filling orders for Mr. Cheney
Schooled in the art of the modern prince
Your Rosebuds cunning apartheid
You Build and destroy lords with your pen
Scratch a career with an errant end nib
You're the Emperor charlatan
Of keeping the truth out of focus
A xenophobic preacher
Guarding discriminating locusts
Owing more to the laundry
of the check line aristocracy
Then the concierge of sources
Obtained from scholastic honesty
Now your caught stealing candy
From a phone line directory
Scavenging the headlines
To promote your ghastly stories
Will not David take the stand
and show himself to be a man
Letting Millie sleep in peace
From blood leaching journalist
That invade young privates homes
Dead from the Wars that they promote
No throwing pies for your imminent demise
Or your Kung fu Lolita will have us vaporized
We should dice you with knighthood
and make you bare for our sushi
Cut corners in lessons for retire skydiving
lending you an umbrella with a tied anvil
Honour you to play the lead Shakespeare Ceaser
Where guess can tag team being merciless Brutus
Then Rent you a retreat in a master gilded coffin
So you finally get the dirt you have always been worth
Dear Rudi
You are not a fox, or a bear
but a philandering snail
A little boy with gold breeches
Who went out on a dare
By Fear mongering a pandemic
For new subscription fairs
Setting obscenities named Limbaugh
To open wounds on live air
Living off of Serpents wisdom
Which you meditate his rotten sermons
Perhaps one day you'll get the chair
poem by Kevin Patrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!