I lost my hair mixing a substance called white gunpowder on the kitchen table.
quote by Mark Oliphant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Gunpowder
I asked my mother why do you cry
She said your brother had... he just died
Well I told him not to go outside
He said he had to fight for his countrys right
But dont you know that mo-mother
Dont you know that we cant stop the violence, no
Because the war is not over
Until you can feel love, peace, and hear silence
But I smell gunpowder (pow)
My brothers been dead ever since
I didnt beleive it, but when I saw him I was convinced
Two shots to the head he was already dead lord,
I headed for revenge in the city of port au prince
Screaming bro-brother
Dont you know that we cant stop the violence, no
Because the war is not over
Until you can feel love, peace, and hear silence
But I smell gunpowder (pow)
Zions gunpowder (pow)
L.a.s gunpowder (pow)
I wanna know why
Christians pray for a new day
We dont need no, we dont need no, we dont need no
But its still the same way
I wanna know why
Ghetto people pray for a new day
Hey, hey, heeey
And its still the same way
But the preacher man told me
Good things come to those who wait
Do good things come to those who wait?
I wanna know tell me
Good things come to those who wait
Do good things come to those who wait?
We wanna know, we wanna know, we wanna know [pause]
Pe-people
Dont you know that we cant stop the violence, no
Because the war is not over
Until you can feel love, peace, and hear the silence
But I smell gunpowder (gunpowder)
Brooklyns gunpowder (gunpowder)
Shaolins gunpowder (gunpowder)
Uptowns gunpowder (gunpowder)
Jerseys gunpowder (gunpowder)
Even new zealands gunpowder (gunpowder)
Australias gunpowder (gunpowder)
Brixtons gunpowder (gunpowder)
Even new havens gunpowder
song performed by by Wyclef Jean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kofi
I am in love with a man called Kofi and,
I am a woman of substance;
I am in love with a man called Kofi and,
He is a man of substance;
I love roasted chicken and he loves fried chicken,
And his whole body is like a hair garment all over.
I am thirsty for his milk and he is hungry for my love,
But we will share this love in the land of camels and sweet-milk;
There we will live forever on this sweet valley of mine.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Miss Mary Fairfax
Every day Miss Mary goes her rounds,
Through the splendid house and through the grounds,
Looking if the kitchen table's white,
Seeing if the great big fire's alight,
Finding specks on shining pans and pots,
Never praising much, but scolding lots.
If the table's white, she does not see
Roughened hands that once were ivory.
It is fires, not cheeks, that ought to glow;
And if eyes are dim, she doesn't know.
Poor Miss Mary! Poor for all she owns,
Since the things she loves are stocks and stones.
poem by Lesbia Harford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall
Oh down at the tavern
the children are singing
around their round table
and around me still.
Did you hear what it said?
I only said
how there is a pewter urn
pinned to the tavern wall,
as old as old is able
to be and be there still.
I said, the poets are tere
I hear them singing and lying
around their round table
and around me still.
Across the room is a wreath
made of a corpse's hair,
framed in glass on the wall,
as old as old is able
to be and be remembered still.
Did you hear what it said?
I only said
how I want to be there and I
would sing my songs with the liars
and my lies with all the singers.
And I would, and I would but
it's my hair in the hair wreath,
my cup pinned to the tavern wall,
my dusty face they sing beneath.
Poets are sitting in my kitchen.
Why do these poets lie?
Why do children get children and
Did you hear what it said?
I only said
how I want to be there,
Oh, down at the tavern
where the prophets are singing
around their round table
until they are still.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hope That I Get Old Before I Die
Sometimes I feel like being wispy
And once in a while I feel like being dry
But we're doomed and we're drowned by this feeling we surround
So I hope that I get old before I die
It's a long, long rope they use to hang you soon I hope
And I wonder why this hasn't happened
Why why why
And I think about the dirt that I'll be wearing for a shirt
And I hope that I get old before I die
Clear off the kitchen table darling
For on the kitchen table I must lie
I'm just tired for my wife just served the banquet of my life
And I hope that I get old before I die
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I come from a family that has been here for almost 200 years. My ancestors started a very dangerous gunpowder business in 1802, and my great- grandfather and his father were both killed in gunpowder explosions.
quote by Pete du Pont
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Squalor & Chips
My angel of the night
came down the stairs of morning
his hair, brown locks of greasiness,
his mouth, those sweet lips, yawning.
He stopped three steps from earth that day
and gazed at trainers in his way
and then as I began to pray,
stepped over and ignored them.
He took four steps across the room
he missed the cloth, the pan, the broom
and squashed cold chips, bare footed
upon the kitchen flooring!
Alas my fallen angel there,
sat his bottom on a chair
and sweeping hand through tousled hair,
ate his breakfast without care.
Without thought for chips all squashed,
flattened on that kitchen floor.
A floor so needy for a wash
as I exclaimed, "Oh my dear God! "
I found the mop, the bucket too
I cleaned the floor, mopped up the goo
and then I had a notion to,
but my angel wouldn't let me through.
Squashed chips on the kitchen floor
last nights washing up,
sticky table, dustbins full
and an empty coffee cup.
poem by Ruth Walters
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The Dolls Braided Her Hair
She wove ribbons in her hair,
the gold strands mixing with the red.
It help her naivety,
her innocence until she met Kindergarten
who tore the ribbons from her hair
and threw them to the wind.
He carried distant memories
even further from her.
She lost everything to the wind,
trading it for logic and friends.
They cut her hair and threw some into story books,
burning them before her eyes.
Her dolls cried alone in her room
as they huddled together,
braiding the hair that had been cut from her head.
It made a crown of red and gold strands.
She ignored the crown and it disintegrated.
Years later when her own daughter was
talking to the dolls,
they told her about the crown.
She cried, and they braided her hair,
weaving it with ribbons.
poem by Andrea Stuckey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An event to recall on Mother's Day - That mother is no one other than me
Summer evening
Sun still harsh
Me, then fourteen
My mother's younger sister
Came forward to tell
A story about a mother
Mumbai, then Bombay
Highrise residential quarters
Fourth floor
Big Hall
Two big bed rooms
Two baths
Big kitchen
Grill-less windows
Free flow of air
Lot natural light
A mother in the kitchen
Preparing food
For her husband
And their three sons
The youngest about two years old
Left on the kitchen table
Mother being busy around
The child not seen now
Mother realised just then
Would have slipped
Across the open window
She was right
The child has fallen
But on the sun shade
About four feet below
Her two year old son
On an open sun shade
Not less than forty feet
Above the ground level
No time to lose
No time waiting for help
From outside
Mother too slowly
Slipped about four feet onto the
Just two feet wide sun shade
Picked up the child
Put him onto the kitchen work table
Managed to climb back to her kitchen
I was thrilled
I was to ask a number of questions
One important being
Is the mother is so courageous
My aunt finished telling
That mother is no one other than me
And that son is no one other than
My third son
Both that mother and son
Are safe, living and active
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Sex In The Kitchen
Girl you're in the kitchen
Cooking me a meal
Something makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt
Nothing else on
Strutting pass, switching that ass while I'm on the phone
Cutting up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doing the damn thang
I want
Sex in the kitchen over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be making love like the restaurant was closed
How would you like it, baby
(How would you like that?)
Tell me right now pretty baby
Hey man, I'm gon call you back
Girl you're in the kitchen, chillin in your robe
I'm saying to myself she better go put on some clothes
Tickling and teasing
Doing that little dance
Girl, you gon make me lay you down and give it to you one mo 'gain
[Chorus 2x]
Girl I'm ready to toss your salad
While I'm making love, I'll be feasting
Girl you're in the kitchen
Sweating up a storm
The oven's on 500
So you know the kitchen's warm
Girl you know just how to get into a brother's mind
Cause here we are still in this kitchen
Doing it for the third time
[Chorus (fades out)]
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your dressing table in the hall
In the house in fifth avenue
I put a small pink white marble table
below a mirror in the corridor
with a bowl with flowers standing on it
that acted as your dressing table
and as a place of display
where I saw your face smiling back at me
while you were doing your hair
teasing with curling tongs
or reflections of the rows of paintings
with the wood floor fading into the distance
and now that mirror and table
is probably still there,
but you are living alone
in that big house
and will never again
smile back into my face.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sex In The Kitchen (remix)
Girl, you're in the kitchen
Cooking me a meal
Something makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt
Nothing else on
Strutting past, switching that ass while I'm on the phone
Cutting up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doing the damn thang that
I want
Sex in the kitchen, over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be making love like the restaurant was closed
How would you like it, baby
(would you like that)
Tell me right now, pretty baby
Hey man, I'm gon' call you back
Girl, you're in the kitchen, chillin' in your robe
I'm saying to myself, "She better go put on some clothes"
Tickling and teasing, doing that little dance
Girl, you gon' make me lay you down
And give it to you one mo 'gain
[chorus 2x]
Girl, I'm ready to toss your salad
While I'm making love, I'll be feasting
Girl, you're in the kitchen
Sweating up a storm
The oven's on five hundred
So you know the kitchen's warm
Girl, you know just how to get into a brother's mind
Cause here we are still in this kitchen
Doing it for the third time
[chorus till fade]
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cobwebs Of Dreams
The cobwebs of Dreams
It was a clear day…too clear I thought. Mother sat in the kitchen
and sunlight made her white hair into a halo. I asked her who
old she was. Ninety two, she said, knew I was trapped in a dream
as she didn’t live that long. By the slow river I saw furniture drift
along. Brother said that people who lived downstream went
upstream to buy furniture, to save on transport cost they dumped
the stuff into the river where relatives, downstream, picked it up.
Sometimes they lost a table or a commode but that’s a risk one
has to take. I knew this too was a dream, Walked along a soft road,
in a forest, but something was wrong there was a strange red light
emitting from the trees, now I was trapped inside a painting by
a mad Russian artist; luckily I had a flick knife. It is morning, that is
I think it is, sometimes the line between reality and the subconscious
merges, perhaps yesterday is today
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I too sing America
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
'Eat in the kitchen, '
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed-
I, too, am America.
poem by Brianna Most
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I, Too
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed —
I, too, am America.
poem by Langston Hughes
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Love (All Over The World)
unheard of love was dreaming inside her hair
the facts of life and me were screaming
i wasn't there
so we took upon myself to swallow
what i should see
and if the world should beg to follow
i'd disagree
we took her head outside and waited
until the rain
called all the dreams anticipated
and never came
she held him in her arms you wondered
is it to be
is love an everlasting thunder
or are we
are we lost forever
are we lost forever
lost forever
are we lost forever
are we lost forever
lost forever
unseen of worlds existing
inside the waves
of all unfolding in the mystery
in secret ways
the dreams are all becoming clearer
the clouds are green
is any way a wee bit nearer
or are we
are we lost forever
are we lost forever
are we lost forever
are we lost forever
lost forever
are we lost forever
are we lost forever
are we in lust forever
lost forever
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost Forever
Unheard of love was dreaming inside her hair
The facts of life and me were screaming
I wasnt there
So we took upon myself to swallow
What I should see
And if the world should beg to follow
Id disagree
We took her head outside and waited
Until the rain
Called all the dreams anticipated
And never came
She held him in her arms you wondered
Is it to be
Is love an everlasting thunder
Or are we
Are we lost forever
Are we lost forever
Lost forever
Are we lost forever
Are we lost forever
Lost forever
Unseen of worlds existing
Inside the waves
Of all unfolding in the mystery
In secret ways
The dreams are all becoming clearer
The clouds are green
Is any way a wee bit nearer
Or are we
Are we lost forever
Are we lost forever
Are we lost forever
Are we lost forever
Lost forever
Are we lost forever
Are we lost forever
Are we in lust forever
Lost forever
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Can't Buy Another Lie
I can't buy another lie to tie up my life.
No.
My diet wont treat it.
I can't buy another lie,
To nibble and try.
No I can't buy another lie to tie up my life.
No.
My diet wont treat it.
I can't buy another lie,
To nibble and try.
With a slice of apple pie and cider on the side,
And a piece of tainted meat...
Isn't good for one to eat.
It sticks and stays in between clean teeth.
With a slice of apple pie and cider on the side,
And a piece of tainted meat...
Isn't good for one to eat.
It sticks and stays in between clean teeth.
No I can't buy another lie to tie up my life.
No.
My diet wont treat it.
I can't buy another lie,
To nibble and try.
Whomever's in the kitchen mixing more tricks to fix,
I can't buy another lie to nibble and try.
Whomever's in the kitchen fixing more tricks to mix,
I can't buy another lie to nibble and try.
Whomever's in the kitchen mixing more tricks to fix,
I can't buy another lie to nibble and try.
Whomever's in the kitchen fixing more tricks to mix,
I can't buy another lie to nibble and try.
I can't buy another lie to tie up my life.
No.
My diet wont treat it.
I can't buy another lie,
To nibble and try.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Red Rose
The rain came down
On the tin roof
Hardly
A sound was left
From the birthday party
The kitchen light
Fell asleep
On the bedroom floor
Me and her were talking softer
Than all the time
Before I lost her
Picture sat on top
Of the chest of drawers
Chorus:
One red rose
In the bible
Pressed between
The holy alphabet
Probably wouldnt believe you
If you told me
But what I never knew
I never will forget
Rainy nites
Get dark real early
Her dress was soft
And her hair was curly
We danced around the table
To the old banjo
Rainy nites
Were made for lovers
We lay there still
Beneath the covers
And I aint never felt
Like that before
Chorus:
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Ida Puts Her Armor On
When Ida puts her armor on
And draws her trusty blade
The turnips in the bin turn pale,
The apples are afraid.
The quiet kitchen city wakes
And consternation feels,
And quick the tocsin pealeth forth
In long potato peels.
When Ida puts her armor on
The pots and pans succumb,
A wooden spoon her drum-stick is,
A mixing pan her drum;
She charges on the kitchen folk
With silver, tin and steel
She beat the eggs, she whips the cream,
The victory is a meal.
When Ida puts her apron on
Her breast-plate is of blue.
(Checked gingham ruffled top and sides)
Her gauntlets gingham, too;
And thus protected from assault
Of batter, stain and flour
She wars with vegetable foes
And conquers in an hour.
When Ida puts her armor on
She is so fair to see
Her battle with the kitchen folk
Is reproduced in me;
So sweet she is, armed cap-a-pie,
So good her kitchen art
I hardly know which loves her best
My palate or my heart.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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