If you're ever selling your house, and some people come by, and a big rat comes out and he's dragging the rattrap because it didn't quite kill him, just tell the people he's your pet and that's a trick you taught him.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Paper Birds
Can you feel it?
The overwhelming power of the wind,
the strength of the rivers,
The force of the storms
the might of the mountains
People fight people
people kill people
nature fights people
nature kills people
people kill people
people fight people
people fight nature
people cannot over come nature.
poem by Fletcher Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some People
Some people seem to have it all
Some people always have to crawl
Some people pay to be abused
Some people end up destitute
Some people search their souls for truth
Some people try to be of use
Some people pray before they kill
Some people kill just for the thrill
Some people follow one mans vision, some others die on television
Some people build their homes on sand, some people live in garbage cans
Some people think that live is dear, some people hope the end is near
Some people fight for right to life, some people hate to stay alive
Some people dream of life on mars, some people end their life in cars
Some people throw their lives away, some others go on holidays
Some people live and love in vain, some people dont and go insane
Some people always need to win, some other people love to sin
Some people breaking all their vows, some people slashing sacred cows
Some people like to worship stars, some people think the worlds a farce
Some people try to make ends meet, some others end up kissing feet
Some people find their holy grail, some other people go to hell
Some people never catch their breath, some people drink themselves to death
Some people seem to have it all, some people always have to crawl
Some people pay to be abused, some people end up destitute
Some people search their souls for truth
Some people try to be of use
Some people
!
Gold/ocean/1994
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's In It For Me?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE TIME FOR TWITTER AND FACEBOOK, BUT NONE FOR THEMSELVES OR OTHERS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE A HUNDRED 'FRIENDS' ON FACEBOOK,
BUT NOT EVEN TEN IN REAL LIFE
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE EMOTE WITH EMOTICONS BUT NOT WITH THEIR FACES,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE PREFER TO WRITE 'LOL' RATHER THAN ACTUALLY LAUGHING OUT LOUD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR COMPUTER MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LIVE THEIR LIVES MORE ONLINE THAN OFF IT,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN SPOT THE ERROR IN SOMEONE'S TYPING BUT CANNOT SPOT A TEAR IN A FRIEND'S EYE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN GROW ANY CROP ONLINE BUT CANNOT EVEN PICK UP A SPADE IN REAL LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE RELISH THE FOOD AT MCDONALDS AND DOMINOS, BUT CRIB OVER HOME COOKED FOOD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE ARE READY TO KILL FOR A FEW SHREDS OF PAPER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE KILL IN THE NAME OF RELIGION,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE A MAN IS READY TO KILL HIS BROTHER OVER PROPERTY AND MONEY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF MONEY IS MORE THAN THE VALUE OF LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE LIVING A LIFE IS TOUGHER THAN KILLING A LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE IT'S EASIER TO EARN MONEY BY CHEATING THAN BY WORKING HONESTLY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF A GIFT IS THROUGH ITS PRICE AND NOT ITS EMOTIONS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE MEASURE OF A MAN IS THROUGH HIS CAR AND HOUSE RATHER THAN HIS CHARACTER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR POSSESSIONS MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS AND PARENTS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THINGS ARE LOVED AND PEOPLE ARE USED,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE DO ANYTHING FOR A BETTER PAY BUT NOTHING FOR A BETTER CONSCIENCE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD IS BAD AND I KNOW THAT BUT SILL IF I WIN THIS WORLD,
WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
poem by Deepak Hariharan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Smoke Of My Handgun
this 10 mm handgun made in Austria
is in my hand.
My coming days are curious
say frightened about what i shall do next with it.
My temple is calm.
My head is full like a cup filled with hot water.
There is no taste of coffee
It is 4 o'clock in the morning
And the streets in this town are all empty
Of people.
There is the possibility of using this handgun
To kill those insane witnesses
Dragging me to a crime that i have not done
Though deep within i want to do it.
Kill! kill! Kill! Shoot them with all the bullets
Of this Gun
This is what my mind is screaming.
My cousin is afraid of the possibilities of
My life.
I am not. I am certain. There is no way that a smoke
From this gun should come out
Without a Reason.
It is fragile, and so light, and Like all truths
No hand can capture it
And hold it forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Travelin' Man
The man i loved ran a salesman route
Selling goods from house to house
Now i knew my mama would never stand
For me stepping out with no traveling man
Mama bought things that he was a'selling
But mama didn't know and i sure wasn't telling
That behind her back i was making plans
To meet somewhere with that traveling man
Oh the traveling man was a good bit older
But a girl needs arms to hold her
Mama didn't know 'cause i didn't told her
But mama wouldn't understand
Me stepping out with a traveling man
Mama didn't allow me a'going courting
And i'd tell lies that i reckon i oughtn't
Oh but she'd a'give me the back a' her hand
If she'd a'seen me with that traveling man
So i tell my mama that i reckon i oughta
Go to the spring and fetch us some water
What mama didn't know is i had a plan
To meet down there with that traveling man
Now i make plans to run away
With that traveling man on a saturday
Well saturday's here and here i stand
And there goes my mama with that traveling man
Oh that traveling man was a two-time lover
He took my love then he took my mother
But i didn't know 'cause mama didn't told me and i don't understand
My mama running off with my traveling man
Mama, you know you oughtn't a'done that
You just like my daddy
He run off before i ever knowed him
You done run-off with my traveling man
And i really don't think i ever knowed you either
Oh there goes my mama with my traveling man
And i'm really gonna miss that traveling man
Mm-hm
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Don't Understand
I don’t understand
Why people kill
Why people have hatred
Why people destroy nature
But most of all
Why people never care
Why people gamble
Why people died
What I understand most is
Why people love
Why the world rotates
Why people feel
poem by Stardasia Livngston
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Boyscout
He was a friend
of a friend.
A dirty undercover cop
that would set you up
and then bust your ass.
Selling drugs,
or guns,
or minors,
and then,
once caught,
for a price,
let you go,
and sell it
all
elsewhere.
I met him again
in his bar
doing a choke
kill all
hold
on a fat child
selling peanuts
He was drunk:
I knew
as he had left his gun
behind. Him
having the urge
and the tendency
to fire it
when drunk.
I didn't’t like what I saw,
but him being a friend,
of a friend
and a man
you:
living on the edge
in the gray zone
of the written law
didn't want as your enemy,
let it slide,
having sold out
of morals for less
than that,
like a god lay
or momentary oblivion.
I left at five
having sampled
and tried
everything
but the minors.
poem by Carsten Thomsen
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Welcome to hell
People yell, people scream, people cry
Welcome to hell
People kill, people steal, people lie
Welcome to hell
People leave, people hurt, people die
Welcome to hell
And welcome to life
poem by Shayna Johnston
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why do people play with blood ?
Why do people play with blood when it gives no pleasure and only pain?
Why do people wag a war when it gives only losses and no gain?
Why do people play with mud when it never tones up but tarnishes their images?
Why do people play the blame -game when it never solves the problem but increases?
Why do people hit the greats when it gives them less fame and more blasphemy?
Why do people create controversy when it gives less positive and more negative publicity?
Why do people lie when do they know in it there is only ugliness and no beauty?
Why do people do jealousy when they do know that it shows their own bankruptcy?
Why do people lick the legs of power when it shows their weakness- the sycophancy?
Why do people do hypocrisy when they do know that they are telling lies?
Why do people heed to the greed when they do know the sweetness of life dies?
Why do people fall in lecherous lust when they do know it eats their own flesh?
Why do people play tricks when they do know that it shows only their foolishness?
Why do people do corruption when they do know it is the selling of their souls?
Why do people do nepotism when they do know it is the quality of them which falls?
Why do people love more self than any one else when they do know it is a disease - narcissism?
Why do people hate people when they do know it is the murder of humanism?
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tornados
Tornados,
You rip thourgh house's and homes.
Destroy house as you spin along.
Kill so many of those inesent people, when they think they will be fine then you rip and suck up there shrine.
Leave house's and mess all over the place.
As on April the third 1956 over 400 tornado suck up the homes and left famlies and freinds with broken hearts and left hospitals filled with sad people with bad enjuries that left the, poor nurse's and Doctors work till daylight with out any power fo over 24 hours that ment that some people would die overs in criddicle conditions so remeber April the first is a very, sad day
poem by Catherine smith
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Why are people always
Why are people always cheating?
Why are people always fighting?
Why are people always dieing?
Why are people always crying?
Why are people always hating?
Why are people always debating?
Why are people always trading?
Why are people always trying to fit in?
Why are people always cursing?
Why are people always bursting?
Why are people always tripping?
Why are people always not trying to be fair?
Why are people always trying to be dumb?
Why are people always playing too much?
Why are people always misbehaving?
Why are people always do drugs?
Why are people always not trying to have a future?
Why do people always try to ruin their life?
Why?
poem by Shaquan Mack
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We meet people all the time....
We meet people all the time
Rich people with nothing
Poor people with the world
Kind people
Not so kind people
Funny people
People who think they are funny
People who laugh at other peoples pain
People who change the course of our lives
People whom we change their direction
Inspirational people
Caring people
Intelligent people
History tells us of people who create World misery
And the ones who end it
People who charm the socks off us (while we are wearing our shoes!)
People who steal our affections
People who give us undeserved affections
All the time we meet people
Wouldn’t it be nice if this poem didn’t label them though?
poem by Wanelisa Albert
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A House for Four
A house for four
What is it? a house for four
A dingy looking thing
Are there windows? none
What is it? a house for four
Such a palace
Are there greetings? none
What is it? a house for four
Why the space is so small
Is there privacy? none
What is it? a house for four
A dozen creeps could be creeping there
Is there any trust? none
Don't judge me for mine
Poor fool i wont
Even give you the time
Are you judging me?
Your quite the choir
With a cracking voice
And
A tall house that falls
To scrutiny
A house for four and
A house for four
A people of choir and
A people of poor
Do you not recognize
The stains are yours?
A house is not a house
Unless there is more
More and more
Sometimes less is more
poem by Deci Hernandez
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Sea Life
A seafarer’s life
I didn’t want to work in a factory and get my hands dirty,
be locked inside grey walls six days a week, as everyone
else in my street was, so I got a job selling books from
house to house; only I was so terrible shy.
The first doorbell I rang was also my last, the woman who
opened the door was kind enough but she didn’t want to
buy anything, I nearly cried, and didn’t have the courage
to press my finger on another doorbell.
Selling pictures of farms, taken from a helicopter, was
my next job, out all day taking the bus to the countryside
only the day I got there it was raining I had no umbrella
and the first farm I came to was also my last.
I took a course training to be a waiter, in white jacket
and golden epaulet I looked handsome, so my sister said.
I did well at the course and got a job at a posh restaurant;
but my hands shook I dropped plates and was fired
Finally I got a job on a tank-ship, in her galley hidden from
view, washing pots and pan, and hid from the world for
thirty years. Now, I write poetry about a sea I hardly saw
stuck inside a ship’s casing seven days a week.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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People
People fly people flee
People clam and say it wasnt me
People fish people beef
People arm to teeth
Yes, youve got people on the tube
Walking on the moon
People at the bottom of the sea
People in tombs
People in igloos
Even a tribe of pygmies
People are the main spring
Turning the world around
People, theyre the main spring
Spinning this world upside down
People sun people toast
People tire shile other people smoke
People bowl people rock
People pay to see two people box
Watch me face me
Dress me baby me
Phone me wire me
House me bug me fire me
People are the main spring
Spinning the world around
People, theyre the main spring
Turning this world inside out
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The People I Turn To
i often wonder why i felt so alone,
only cuz the people i wanted to care,
didn't,
they only cared when they wanted to,
but yet,
they try and control your life,
just to gain control of theirs,
it was like i didn't matter,
only when they felt i did,
for so long,
i was trying to please,
the people who never gave a d@mn,
i was pulled in all directions,
cause i didn't trust my way in thinking,
but than it became clear,
the people who are there for me,
are going to stay by my side,
no matter what,
why should,
the people who don't care,
be the people i turn to?
7-1-09
poem by Mona Martinez
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Does It Matter To You
Does it matter to you if God's house is empty and dark?
Do you care it people sleep under a bridge, or in the park?
Is your heart touched by those who have less?
You've got yours. You're comfortable, and blessed
Does it matter to you if children don't understand
Why we're too busy to lend them a hand?
When children kill children, we're all sad
Why didn't we reach them before they went bad?
When children have children, they think it's cool
But why didn't we teach them the rules?
We all do our own thing, and enjoy it, too
But when our own thing causes problems, Does It Matter To You?
poem by Ruby Hopper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The People's World
people are good;
people are bad;
people are happy;
people are sad;
people are near;
people are far;
people are true;
people are blue;
people are white;
people are right;
people are silent;
people are violent;
people can throw;
people can grow;
people can share;
people can care;
people can unite;
people can divide;
people can fool;
people can rule;
people can trust;
people are worst;
don't think i became mad.... what ever i wrote is very common things known about people but what i want to show is that i cannot describe everything about the people as it is impossible in the same way it is impossible to understand and make every person happy around us that's it.got it!
poem by Fahmina Arjumand Misha
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My People Everyday.
my people,
my people I see beauty,
my people I see that house,
my people I know all about profit,
my people you are the greatest,
my people I know all about love,
my people let's wake,
my people know your enemies,
my people realise all about great authority,
my people wake,
my people don't let them get you,
I know that the Lord of Creations in the healer,
They will never see my face,
They will never see the beauty of all time's,
That the great profit is from my Heavenly King.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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That's The Way It Is
That's the ways it is,
Some things will never change;
That's the way it is,
Some people will never learn;
That's the way it is,
Some bombs will never stop;
That's the way it is,
Some people will never grow with their senses;
That's the way it is,
Some wars will never end;
That's the way it is,
Some people will always hate;
That's the way it is,
Some people will always love;
That's the way it is,
Some people will always kill;
That's the way it is,
As the tears welled in the eyes of many.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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