There is no singing anymore, everything is yelling and shouting and rapping and that is real boring to a guy like me.
quote by Sebastian Bach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I don't worry anymore about where's the big hangout Tuesday night, Friday. Couldn't tell you and no one comes to me for advice anymore in those areas anymore, so real boring I would say.
quote by Brett Favre
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rapping isnt just rhyming and Poetry isnt just loving.
Poetry is like Rapping a game of grate rhyming and of victory. Rapping is suposed
to be mean and poetry is suposed to be lovey and sappy.
I say rapping and poetry mean what they mean.
keep rapping and rhyming dont let no body tell you how to write what u feel
Rapping is a game of give and take Poetry is a game of rhyming and english words
Rapping is not just a game and poetry is not just the name of rapping with love.
poem by Debbie Ledford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shouting...
i cannot sleep for this constant shouting...
the shouting of trees, the shouting of alleyways,
the shouting of rats crawling through trash.
the shouting of needles and Family Bibles,
the shouting of flags folded and given.
the shouting of machines, abandoned and morose,
the shouting of fields gone barren.
the shouting of poverty ripping color from being,
the shouting of hunger in faces silent.
the shouting of guns loaded and unloaded,
the shouting of clinics, filled without names.
the shouting of prayers wriiten in pavement,
the shouting of rivers filled with sewage.
the shouting of birth, and the shouting of death...
the shouting of love, distant and forgotten.
the shouting of god, in doubt's innumerable forms.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jerry
Jerrys jelling at the man in the moon
Hes right outside of my window
He acts like a madman from time to time
I hope he brings it to a crescendo soon
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
Jerry rides his skateboard down the street
Hes thirty-seven yeras old with six children
He sees the world through a ten year old boys eyes
He doesnt even notice that its raining outside
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
But sometimes he cries
He wants me to console him
But I know hes lying about
Everything he told me
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
Says he prayed to suffer the consequences
What is his penalty for his immaturity
Will he be cast into eternal darkness
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
Jerrys yelling at the man in the moon
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boring Lonely Day
What to do
On a boring lonely day?
How to have something to do
To keep the blues away?
I have got my papers sorted
And I am faced with a lonely boring day.
I cleaned my home yesterday.
From having a good and fun day,
I am thwarted.
The songs only make me sadder
I am having a boring lonely day.
All my games bore me now
Even when I win, it is a lonely boring day.
Having nothing to do
Makes for a boring lonely day.
And no one to do nothing with
That's the cause of the lonely boring day.
Now that I know the cause
Of my lonely boring days,
I can do something without pause
To cure my boring lonely days.
poem by Lonely People Champion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I was always musical - yelling when I was a baby, singing into a brush and singing in the shower.
quote by Susan Boyle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In All Situations (part Two)
just like in any other work
of art, painting for instance
there will fakes and there
will be real
there will be those that
pose for the genuine
but actually prized for
nothing,
but at what expense,
for instance let us take
a look at yours?
it will take me time
to read it
i have none. i do not have
the patience anymore
of looking at what's real or
fake, at what's quality,
art or garbage
we are here
not for anything, for what?
just plain nonsense
make time pass
and stare at the glass
letting the sands pour
between our boring
fingers.
smile, there is nothing
worth seriously taking.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can't Get Enough
I feel real now walking like a woman and talking like a stone age man
I feel real now talking like buddha and doing it again
I get kick I rip it up kick it up take it like a teenage tough
I feel real now talking like sugar and shaking that stuff
Singing I can't get enough
Singing I can't get enough
I feel schizo every so psycho kicking at an old tin can
I feel real like a man like a woman like a woman like a man
I make dead space feel like a headcase take it like a teenage tough
And feel real now watching those wheels and shaking that stuff
Singing I can't get enough
Singing I can't get enough
Singing I can't get enough
Singing I can't get enough
I feel real now walking like a woman and talking like a stone age man
I feel real now talking like buddha and doing it again
So give me this and give me that smother me and give me some of that bad stuff
I feel real now talking like sugar and shaking that stuff
Singing I can't get enough
Singing I can't get enough
Singing I can't get enough
Singing I can't get enough
song performed by by Suede from Head Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Imaginary evil is romantic and varied; real evil is gloomy, monotonous, barren, boring. Imaginary good is boring; real good is always new, marvelous, intoxicating.
quote by Simone Weil
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sometimes the world seems like a big hole. You spend all your life shouting down it and all you hear are echoes of some idiot yelling nonsense down a hole.
quote by Adam Duritz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Loved To Watch Him Play
she never missed a practice
never missed a game
sat there watching
yelling his name
baseball, soccer, basketball too
she was always there
cheering him on
win or lose she didnt care
he was her little boy
he loved to play
she loved to watch him
even far away
for 12 years she was
at every game
always watching
yelling his name
then 1 day
he asked her not to come
he loved her
he would always be her son
he said other parents
never come
and he didnt want to have
the only one
he said he was a grown
man now
doesnt want his mom
around now
she said
ok
i wont embarrass you
that way
a few years later
he walks to the mound
looks at the bleachers
he hears a familiar sound
then he sees her
watching his game
sitting there patiently
yelling his name
he smiles real big
tips his hat
throws the ball
right past the bat
after the game
he runs to the stand
looking at his mom
she waves her hand
he runs past the fence
around the post
then realizes it was
his moms ghost
she never missed a practice
never missed a game
sat there watching
yelling his name
poem by Sandy Nobody
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love You
this afternoon
really I'm boring
my own quiet
no derisive your laughters
shouting
that I
cranky
but in the hearts
i love you
seriously
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Was The First Time When I Shouted At You
i was surprised myself
at what i just did
oh my i feel like a real man
shouting at you
the first time in my life
when i think you never understood me
when i decided to shout the words
the words baffle you
about who i am, and what i am really up to
i like the way things are
now you must listen
otherwise, i will keep on shouting
until i will get
my own meaning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This afternoon
this afternoon
really boring
own quiet
no derisive yaour laughters
shouting
that I
cranky
but in the hearts
i love you
seriously
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anybody singing the blues is in a deep pit yelling for help.
quote by Mahalia Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Know HE Knows
Some days you just yell...
Out...
To God...
Hold me...just hold me...
Tears flowing from your heart...
Eyes filled with wonder...
God is real...real!
And you know it...
So you cannot quit...
Because of it...
No matter what...
God is on the scene...
Loving and caringly there...
And you know that...
You do...
And yet...some how...
You doubt...and pout...
Inners shouting...Real, Real, Real...
God heals...even on a slow...day
whisperkwane
[email protected]
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If something is boring after two minutes, try it for four. If still boring, then eight. Then sixteen. Then thirty-two. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.
Does Anyone Know
Music : klaus meine
Lyrics: klaus meine
Is this world out of control
Say what is right what is wrong
Do I know this world at all
I think I do but then I dont
Im confused by what I see
I try to understand
But it makes no sense at all
Im confused by what I feel
I thought that our love
Was something that is real
Does anyone know
The truth were looking for
Cant find it anymore
Does anyone know
How to make me feel
For something that is real
So many things that I recall
When we were young just flying high
Can we turn our fate at all
I wish we could say dont you cry
Im confused by what I hear
Girl it seems to me
Were losing after all
Im confused by what I feel
I thought that our love
Was something that is real
Does anyone know
The truth were looking for
Cant find it anymore
Does anyone know
How to make me feel
For something that is real
Another day has just begun
Life goes on theres no return
How can I trust anyone
When honesty is such a dirty word
Does anyone know
The truth were looking for
Cant find it anymore
Does anyone know
How to make me feel
For something that is real
Does anyone know
The truth were looking for
Cant find it anymore
Does anyone know
How to make me feel
For something that is real
Yeah
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is There Anyone Out There?
Staring at the stars at night
it makes you wonder
if this is the only planet with life
in the vastness of space.
You feel like shouting at times.
Is there anyone out there?
People see things in the night sky
that they cannot explain.
Even in the daylight
mysterious objects appear unexplained
and all the time you feel like shouting.
Is there anyone out there?
Years from now when
we might have learned to listen,
we might find someone else
is really out there listening
to us shouting.
Is there anyone out there?
It is quite possible one day
in the truth we might find
that all the time we’ve been shouting
someone else has been out there
shouting back at us too.
Is there anyone out there?
21 February 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In daily dying to ourselves
In daily dying to ourselves
As we pain
Each day, each minute,
We get used to dying
And every death that comes
Close to our skins
Whichever is it
As there are many of them
At the end
Not a death that comes
Really matters.
And so the stress is gone
In fact, we start to welcome
It like a guest,
The invited one, we even
Ask it to stay
And be home with us.
Little deaths here and there
Each is real, nothing frightens anymore.
And death becomes
So boring so common so tiny to tinker
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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