We know but a few men, a great many coats and breeches.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Men In White Coats Are Coming To Get Me
I'm cracking at my seems
The men in white coats are coming to get me
Don't let them take me
I'm not medicated
I haven't taken them little yellow pills
In a couple of months
They tell me i'm crazy
Well maybe clinically insane
But who cares
Not me of course
Pain goes shooting through my body.
What are they putting in my veins?
They tell me i'm too stressed out
What do they know?
They're just men
In white coats
I hear them talking
They say it's a breakdown
The girl has gone mad
It's a wonder she didn't off herself last monday
I say all men in white coats
Are my enemy!
They should be destroyed at once!
They're a menace to society!
Sorry people i'm not all
You thought i was
It's ok you must have
Mistaken me for someone else
Tears pour down my face
As they put me in restrains
They say i'm a danger to myself and others
What do they know
They're just men in white coats
Noooooooooo
Don't let them lock me up
People told me once you go in there
You never come out
I hear them coming down the hall
Im never going to see the light of day again
Cause the men in white coats have got me
(12-28-05)
poem by Brandi Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Going Into Breeches
Joy to Philip, he this day
Has his long coats cast away,
And (the childish season gone)
Puts the manly breeches on.
Officer on gay parade,
Red-coat in his first cockade,
Bridegroom in his wedding trim,
Birthday beau surpassing him,
Never did with conscious gait
Strut about in half the state,
Or the pride (yet free from sin)
Of my little Manikin:
Never was there pride, or bliss,
Half so rational as his.
Sashes, frocks, to those that need 'em-
Philip's limbs have got their freedom-
He can run, or he can ride,
And do twenty things beside,
Which his petticoats forbad:
Is he not a happy lad?
Now he's under other banners,
He must leave his former manners;
Bid adieu to female games,
And forget their very names,
Puss-in-corners, hide-and-seek,
Sports for girls and punies weak!
Baste-the-bear he now may play at,
Leap-frog, foot-ball, sport away at,
Show his strength and skill at cricket,
Mark his distance, pitch his wicket,
Run about in winter's snow
Till his cheeks and fingers glow,
Climb a tree, or scale a wall,
Without any fear to fall.
If he get a hurt or bruise,
To complain he must refuse,
Though the anguish and the smart
Go unto his little heart,
He must have his courage ready,
Keep his voice and visage steady,
Brace his eye-balls stiff as drum,
That a tear may never come,
And his grief must only speak
From the colour in his cheek.
This and more he must endure,
Hero he in miniature!
This and more must now be done
Now the breeches are put on.
poem by Charles Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ship The Pins
'Smug' and 'gums' are with the 'sag' of the 'gas'!
But take a rest on my love and let me teach you the truth;
And like twenty little coats of green.
Of a noble strive to the maple leave,
So ship the pins and 'nip' a 'pin'! !
For life is full of the sunshine of love,
And like twenty little coats of blue.
Who the cap fits must surely wear it,
And who my love touches must surely come to me;
But like twenty little coats of red by the seashore,
For the 'spam' had affected the 'maps'!
Try to bath your wife if you want to,
And to 'spat' the 'taps' will lead you to your secret muse;
But try to ship the pins to me as mandated.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fantastic! Right in the middle of that long stretch between Christmas and Spring Break, your coats are getting dirty, everything's dark, dingy - what a great time for a movie!
quote by John Hughes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half A Week Before Winter
Half a week before the winter
The chill bites before it comes
That he brings before he runs
He sits behind a desk of mahogany
He whispers dreams into my ear
And though I've giving him his empire
He delivers me my fear
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
I turn to look and burn my eyes
I carry on, I carry all the weight of empty promise
As I stand swallowed by the light
Flickering above the highway
I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
We turn to look and burn our eyes
I carry on, I carry
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
I carry on
I carry on
We carry on
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half A Week Before Winter
Half a week before the winter
The chill bites before it comes
That he brings before he runs
He sits behind a desk of mahogany
He whispers dreams into my ear
And though I've giving him his empire
He delivers me my fear
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
I turn to look and burn my eyes
I carry on, I carry all the weight of empty promise
As I stand swallowed by the light
Flickering above the highway
I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
We turn to look and burn our eyes
I carry on, I carry
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
I carry on
I carry on
We carry on
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You see in the streets of London, great and little boys running about in long blue coats, which, like robes, reach quite down to the feet, and little white bands, such as the clergy wear.
quote by Karl Philipp Moritz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half A Week Before The Winter
Half a week before the winter
The chill bites before it comes
And I'm a child of the pleasure
Daddy brings before he runs
He sits behind a desk of mahogany
He whispers dreams into my ear
And though I've givin him his empire
He delivers me my fear
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
I turn to look and burn my eyes
I carry on, I carry all the weight of empty promise
As I stand swallowed by the light
Flickering above the highway
I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
We turn to look and burn our eyes
I carry on, I carry
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
I carry on
I carry on
We carry on
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half A Week Before The Winter
Half a week before the winter
The chill bites before it comes
And I'm a child of the pleasure
Daddy brings before he runs
He sits behind a desk of mahogany
He whispers dreams into my ear
And though I've givin him his empire
He delivers me my fear
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
I turn to look and burn my eyes
I carry on, I carry all the weight of empty promise
As I stand swallowed by the light
Flickering above the highway
I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
We turn to look and burn our eyes
I carry on, I carry
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
I carry on
I carry on
We carry on
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Forget who is your Father
God is Great
He created you and me so ladies and gentleman
he is the only person to praise and pray
Cause some of us we pray Alan people you pray him
who is him God is the one who created us
so guys help me to Thank him every time i'm sick i call him cause
he is the hiller the killer of diseases in the world
Help me to sing.
How great is our God sing with me how great is our God
all we sing is how great is our God age to age praise his
Great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great great great great great
GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD..
Thank you Help me pliz.
poem by Ruvimbo Daisy Matsika
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By the horn
Heightened excitement and a little fear
The matador faces a bull, with a crowd behind him it lessens his care
Frustrated, harnessed to entertain
Frantic charging with poor aim
Targeting this red rag, the bull has missed
While the matador plays to the crowd and blows a kiss
A stroke of luck, our bull has made contact
While the matador feels sheepish, the crowd witnessed the fact
Carried by his breeches he's tossed up high
Oohs, aahs, the crowd sees his breeches torn
He attempts to cover his modesty as they are exposed by a horn
Heartened, our bull charges again and delivers a better aim
Escape is on hand as the matador takes flight and is tossed into the stand.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The September Gale
I'M not a chicken; I have seen
Full many a chill September,
And though I was a youngster then,
That gale I well remember;
The day before, my kite-string snapped,
And I, my kite pursuing,
The wind whisked off my palm-leaf hat;
For me two storms were brewing!
It came as quarrels sometimes do,
When married folks get clashing;
There was a heavy sigh or two,
Before the fire was flashing,
A little stir among the clouds,
Before they rent asunder,--
A little rocking of the trees,
And then came on the thunder.
Lord! how the ponds and rivers boiled!
They seemed like bursting craters!
And oaks lay scattered on the ground
As if they were p'taters
And all above was in a howl,
And all below a clatter,
The earth was like a frying-pan,
Or some such hissing matter.
It chanced to be our washing-day,
And all our things were drying;
The storm came roaring through the lines,
And set them all a flying;
I saw the shirts and petticoats
Go riding off like witches;
I lost, ah! bitterly I wept,--
I lost my Sunday breeches!
I saw them straddling through the air,
Alas! too late to win them;
I saw them chase the clouds, as if
The devil had been in them;
They were my darlings and my pride,
My boyhood's only riches,--
"Farewell, farewell," I faintly cried,--
"My breeches! O my breeches!"
That night I saw them in my dreams,
How changed from what I knew them!
The dews had steeped their faded threads,
The winds had whistled through them!
I saw the wide and ghastly rents
Where demon claws had torn them;
A hole was in their amplest part,
As if an imp had worn them.
I have had many happy years,
And tailors kind and clever,
But those young pantaloons have gone
Forever and forever!
And not till fate has cut the last
Of all my earthly stitches,
This aching heart shall cease to mourn
My loved, my long-lost breeches!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There's no taking trout with dry breeches.
quote by Miguel de Cervantes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When a man is not used to breeches the seams gall him.
There's no catching trouts with dry breeches.
Where the woman wears the breeches, she has a good right to them.