It's going to be the year of the sharp elbow and the quick tongue.
quote by George W. Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
There isn't a coliseum any more, but the city is a bigger bowl, and it seats more people. The razor-sharp claws aren't those of wild animals but man's can be just as sharp and twice as vicious. You have to be quick, and you have to be able, or you become one of the devoured, and if you can kill first, no matter how and no matter who, you can live and return to the comfortable chair and the comfortable fire. But you have to be quick. And able. Or you'll be dead.
quote by Mickey Spillane
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Get Stiff Quick
When your backbone bends,
And your vision dims...
You've got to,
Get stiff.
Get stiff quick.
When you know you need to move,
From foolish doers...
Get stiff.
Get stiff quick.
No need to put up more with that funky stuff.
You've got to,
Get stiff.
Get stiff quick.
No need to ride a roller coaster,
You know was tough.
No need to do a shuffle singing those sad songs.
Or get along with others you wish from you gone!
Just,
Get stiff.
Get stiff quick.
You've got to,
Get stiff.
Get stiff quick!
When your backbone bends,
And your vision dims...
You've got to,
Get stiff.
Get stiff quick.
Mean what you say and be done with it.
You've got to,
Get stiff...
Get stiff quick!
Don't let just anything fall from your lips.
Or bite your tongue to let an old patience sit.
When you wish to make a point you know wont quit.
You've got to,
Get stiff.
Get stiff quick.
You've got to,
Get stiff.
Get stiff quick.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sorrow for a husband is like a pain in the elbow, sharp and short.
Grief for a husband is like a pain in the elbow, sharp and short.
Back To You
i am here
at par with you
my peer
we shall appear
on same designer clothes
now
i can afford it
i am glad finally
that i have made it
on the
21st century
touch my elbow
we go elbow to elbow now
for you have been my giant
and i was your dwarf
because you have looked at me
with disdain
but now, i am happy to have made
it on your century
my God if you only knew it
got demoted really
from my own time
on the 30th
light years ago
touching myself
trying to be human again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quick Is The Beat Of My Heart
Written by lewis mark
Lead vocals by james young
If its my time to die today
Please God oh make it fast
Balanced on this point for a year and half
I just dont think I can last
Theres a man whos laid to rest
The man who gave me my start
I wish I could quit but I cant and its rough
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
So please all you people
Dont you grieve for me
The blood in my veins is black and I cant bleed
Ive suffered the pain
And all I can face is the dark
Oh, lord, quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Now my bags are almost packed
The trains about to depart
I wish I could quit but I cant and its rough
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
If its my time to die...
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look Sharp
Big shot, tell you what
Tell me what goes on around here
Go on and get me in the corner
Smoke my cigarettes and drink my beer
Tell me that this world is no place for the weak
Then you can look me in the eye
And tell me if you see a trace of fear
You gotta look sharp
You gotta look sharp
And you gotta have no illusions
Just keep going your way looking over your shoulder
Okay, what you say
Tell me what theyre wearing this year
Go on and laugh at me cause you dont see
That I got something going right here
Say Im just a dreamer
Say Im just a kid
Well ace, shut your face
Maybe you will see or hear
You gotta look sharp
You gotta look sharp
And you gotta have no illusions
Just keep going your way looking over your shoulder
Big shot, thanks a lot
Gotta go its getting late
I got a date with my tailor now
Thanks for putting me so straight
Tell me how they run the crime down every street
But check your watch and wallet now
Before I go and youre too late
You gotta look sharp
You gotta look sharp
And you gotta have no illusions
Just keep going your way looking over your shoulder
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Story Of The Sharp Tongue
with the repetitive sound of sighs and symmetrical silence
the tongue has become sharp and it stabs hearts
it breaks open what has been closed all along and hidden
birds start breaking out from cages
and feathers are left as memories which somehow the one who is left
empty takes it to his heart and becomes his pen
the lonely man writes
with blood from his bleeding heart stabbed by the sharpness of his own
past
the sound becomes even more demanding like routine that you cannot refuse
and somehow the silence becomes irregular, asymmetrical taking the shape
of a scream, which the tongue most sharpened now
slices into dust
and this reaches to the conclusion that no matter how sharp the tongue can be
it too shall in the end turn into
dust..............................
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quick
Quick to dismiss,
That which is misunderstood.
And quick to do this often.
Because one can and could.
Quick to define something wrong.
Quick to complain about it,
All day long.
Quick to sit to nitpick and pull apart.
As if this quickness was intended from the start.
Quick to resist a comprehension that exist.
Quick to allow a temper tantrum fit.
Quick to whip up excuses...
And split to disappear.
Quick to discover the nearest exit!
That's what troublemakers do...
When they stir up others in raging fits!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It meant a lot because it was my first time to compete as a senior at that meet, which was kind of weird because I've done senior all year, but I didn't get to compete last year because of my elbow.
quote by Carly Patterson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0265 Tongue
strange name for a pet yeah?
but that's what I call it
and it knows its name
so we get along OK
I keep it in its cage now
since it's a bit large and scary
for those who haven't met it
or know its owner
but I've given it all I can think of
to keep it amused in its cage
papers old books photos to keep its teeth sharp
we love each other to bits
but every now and again
I can 't resist opening up the cage
and letting it out to be itself
wild untamed sometimes vicious irresponsible
I used to say naughty Tongue
who's a naughty boy then
but I felt such a hypocrite
I love to see it free
it's like when you have a pet greyhound
that's never seen a track, or raced
faster faster
with all the crowd shouting
to please itself and its master
oh we're both so proud of Tongue
I was given it when it and me we were very small
and people would smile and say
what a pretty Tongue then
it'll grow up to be a fine Tongue
you must be very fond of it and proud too
to my parents who smiled weakly
they encouraged me and Tongue little did they know then
little did they think
that small Tongues grow to be big Tongues
well isn't that the same with all pets
until you flush them down the john
to roam the sewers or sneak out at night
to leave them scratching the tiles
in some gas station restroom
and giving someone's bladder
one hell of a shock opening the door
they hoped we'd grow apart Tongue and I
and I'd go on to something quieter
tattoos piercings stuff
I wouldn't do that not ever to Tongue
though we had to leave home Tongue and I
so I go to open up the cage
and Tongue opens its big mouth
in a sorta snarly smile
gives me a quick glance like yes now
and then it's off
pleased as Punch, top speed,
sniffing where all the other tongues
have left their mark
sniffing friendly at children
scaring grown-ups all shouting at me
picking a fight with every other tongue it meets
so I can't help be proud of it
lifting its leg on the neighbours who tell the other neighbours
who don't speak to me now
oh we have a fine time Tongue and I
then after we've had a great workout
come back panting, flushed, victorious not a bit ashamed
maybe later
people who've stopped talking to me
say to each other so I'm told never me
he'll be sorry one day
Michael has such a malicious Tongue
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Inviting the Delight of Gossips
A lie,
Will always be sweet.
And considered delicious tender meat,
Tasted.
And quick to share...
When prepared after basting.
With a buttering done!
And more to spare.
From tongue to tongue...
Inviting the delight of gossips.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But in 2000, the injuries really started to kick in and my elbow gave a lot of problems. At the end of the year I had to take 20 months off before I could come back into the game.
quote by Richard Krajicek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Faithful Witness
To the firstborn of Yahseph,
Of all that is created;
To the secondborn of Yahseph,
Do set set your mind on Mount Zion;
For His name is His glory and,
Of the economic well-being.
Of the year of the rat,
Of the year of the dog,
Of the year of the cow,
Of the year of the bull,
Of the year of the sheep,
Of the year of the dragon,
Of the year of the snake,
Of the year of the pig,
Of the year of the goat,
Of the year of the lizard,
Of the year of the crocodile,
Of the year of the elephant,
Of the year of the scorpion,
Of the year of the turtle,
Of the year of the fish,
Of the year of the earth,
Of the year of the wind,
Of the year of the fire,
Of the year of the water,
And of the year of the bush!
Like the firstborns of slaves.
The hips of romance,
The faithful witness will not lie;
The same day,
The same night,
Of the love shared at where no oxen are;
And the crib was very clean.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Improvisation
I fed out of my hand a flock of keys
To clapping of wings and shrill cries in flight.
Sleeves up, arms out, on tiptoe I rose;
At my elbow I felt the nudging of night.
The dark. And the pond, and the wash of waves.
And screeching black beaks in their savage attack,
All quick for the kill - not to hunger and die,
While birds of the species I-love-you fall back.
The pond. And the dark. The pulsating flare
From pipkins of pitch in the gloom of midnight,
The boat keel nibbled by lapping of waves.
And birds at my elbow in their wrath and fight.
Night gurgled, washed in the gullets of weirs.
And it seemed if the young were unfed, by rote,
The hen-birds would kill - before the roulades
Would die in the shrilling, the crooked throat.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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A Sequel To Mamta's Asking About Sky Scrapers
after the progress
when sky scrapers
stand tall reaching
the moon and the
stars and elbow to
elbow with the sun
the birds may have
asked: where shall we
put our nests?
and the trees may
have asked: where
shall we ever grow
again?
and the brooks may
have asked: where
shall we ever flow?
and yes, mamta, the
children as asking:
do we still have
playgrounds to play?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Watch
I wakened on my hot, hard bed;
Upon the pillow lay my head;
Beneath the pillow I could hear
My little watch was ticking clear.
I thought the throbbing of it went
Like my continual discontent,
I thought it said in every tick:
I am so sick, so sick, so sick;
O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,
Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick.
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Watch
I wakened on my hot, hard bed;
Upon the pillow lay my head;
Beneath the pillow I could hear
My little watch was ticking clear.
I thought the throbbing of it went
Like my continual discontent;
I thought it said in every tick:
I am so sick, so sick, so sick:
O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,
Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick...
poem by Barry Cornwall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Say You Are Saved
Peppered and salted is your tongue.
And you say you are saved.
Prepared and quick you are,
To assault and offend anyone.
And you say you are saved.
What is it you run from when done?
When you say you are saved.
What is it that you think,
You are protected from?
When you say you are saved.
Do you have what's needed to stop your agonies?
And when you plead to be released from bended knees...
Repeatedly,
What is that saves you...
When you say you pray faithfully,
And it stays that way everyday.
What is it you run from when done?
When you say you are saved.
What is it that you think,
You are protected from?
When you say you are saved.
To hide what you do on a daily basis.
Peppered and salted is your tongue.
And you say you are saved.
Prepared and quick you are,
To assault and offend anyone.
And you say you are saved.
You say it.
But what is it saved that you obey?
You 'say' you are saved,
But...
From what?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is Poetic And Prophetic
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'I see the holes in shoes.'
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'Those shoes have not been used.
Since many are afraid of walking.
But talk about nonsense,
They choose to do.'
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
It could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'Lips flap flip flop so much.'
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'Flipping lips lick ears to touch,
With venom spiced and nothing nice to say...
Yet quick to pick from empty pockets.'
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
'Woe goes the mogul to spend from thieving.
Wishing to steal more.
To take and not to give.
Or...
Sympathize with those begging.'
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'I see the holes in shoes.'
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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