While we were at work there came nine or 10 of the natives to a small hill a little way from us, and stood there menacing and threatening of us, and making a great noise. At last one of them came towards us, and the rest followed at a distance.
quote by William Dampier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Gbi
Lyrics: towa tei / kylie minogue
Music: towa tei
Hello
My name is german bold italic
I am a type face
Which you have never heard before
Which you have never seen before
I can compliment you well
Especially in red
Extremely in green
Maybe in blue blue blue
Chorus
*you will like my sense of style
You will like my sense of style* repeat
Gut ja!
Gut ja!
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out Of Work
8 a.m. Im up and my feet beating on the sidewalk
Down at the unemployment agency, all I get is talk
I check the want ads but there just aint nobody hiring
Whats a man supposed to do when hes down and hes
Out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
I go to pick my girl up
Her name is linda brown
Her dad invites me in
He tells me to sit down
The small talk that were making
Is going pretty smooth
But then he drops a bomb
Son, what dya do ?
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Hey mr president I know you got your plans
Youre doing all you can now to aid the little man
We got to do our best to whip that inflation down
Maybe you got a job for me just driving you around
Im out of work
These hard times, theyre enough
To make a man lose his mind
Im out of work
Up there you got a job but down here below
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As much as we'd like to believe that our work is great and that we're infallible, we're not. Hollywood movies are made for the audience. These are not small European art films we're making.
quote by Harold Ramis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blueberry Hill
I found my thrill
On blueberry hill
On blueberry hill
When I found you
The moon stood still (moon stood still)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
It lingered until (lingered until)
My dream true (true)
Though were apart (we are apart)
I think of you still (think of you still)
For you were my friend (you were my friend)
On blueberry hill
The wind in the willow played
Loves sweet melody
But all those vows you made
Were never to be
Though were apart (we are apart)
I think of you still (think of you still)
For you were my friend (you were my friend)
On blueberry hill
I found my thrill (found my thrill)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
When I found you (you)
The moon stood still (moon stood still)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
It lingered until (lingered until)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Portrait Number Five: Against A New York Summer
I'd walk her home after work
buying roses and talking of Bechsteins.
She was full of soul.
Her small room was gorged with heat
and there were no windows.
She'd take off everything
but her pants
and take the pins from her hair
throwing them on the floor
with a great noise.
Like Crete.
We wouldn't make love.
She'd get on the bed
with those nipples
and we'd lie
sweating
and talking of my best friend.
They were in love.
When I got quiet
she'd put on usually Debussy
and
leaning down to the small ribs
bite me.
Hard.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Jack Gilbert
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Small debts are like small shot; they are rattling on every side, and can scarcely be escaped without a wound: great debts are like cannon; of loud noise, but little danger.
quote by Samuel Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Noise
Dads stuck in the factory, machines are banging all around.
Mommas in the kitchen, she got the radio on all the time.
My little sisters screaming, and stamping on the ground.
And the radio keeps pumping out the same old boring sound.
All I hear is noise.
Cant get away from the noise.
Can you hear me above the noise?
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Can you hear the noise? (noise)
Cant get away from the noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Banging in my ears, in every direction.
Listen to the roar, hear that city[? ], poundin, poundin.
There oughta be a law, hey buddy, turn that radio down.
Sometimes I get used to it and I forget that its around.
But all I hear is noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
All of this confusion is ruining my day.
Let the noise be like the sunset, and slowly fade away.
Fading, fade.
Girl, I want to build a better world for me and you.
I wanna pull out all the plugs before I finally blow my fuse.
Wish all the confusion would slowly fade away.
Id tell you that I love you, but you dont hear what I way.
All you hear is noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Noise in the street, theyre digging up the pavement.
Noise in the air, those traffic jams are everywhere.
Noise on noise, to cover up the noise.
The pressures building up because theres no way to avoid,
All the noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
All of this confusion is ruining my day.
Let the noise be like the sunset, and slowly fade away.
Fading, fading.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lucy Cant Dance
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
Oh lucy look what youre doing Im doing it too
Now youre looking for God in exciting new ways
I say trust him at once which is something these days
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Did the world just explode?
Dont recognize anyone
But youve still got me under your thumb
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Oh oh oh
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Theres tooling your frenzy in the tole savoy
And the sexual noise which is caught up a toy
You live and you die in the blink of an eye
Well I cant make you dance
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance
Lucy cant dance
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
But you cant buy me off in the stirial (? ) world
Who who who died and made you material girl?
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
So Ill spin while my lunatic lyric goes wrong
Guess Ill put all my eggs in a postmodern song
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Of the show of the fine reality
Just a few simple words like I love you, I need you
Live and to die in the blink of an eye
Still I cant make you dance
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Can do
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
Lucy cant dance
Lucy cant dance
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quietly Making Noise
Quietly making noise
By: jimmy buffett, michael tschudin
1993
Oscar wilde died in bed
Several floors above my head
Living well beyond his means
In that crazy paris scene
Rain falls down in sheets so clear
And no one ever calls me hear
Travelin by myself these days
Im into jazz and felt berets
Far from that old eastern shore
Searchin for strange metaphors
I dont want to be another victim of fashion
No I dont want to see my name in the paper each day
Hey you can leave that to the young turks
Theyre handsome and dashing
Posing for paparazzis down laguna way
Now down in the metro I feel the world start to multiply
Bastille, rubber wheels, spiked heels
Subterranean lullaby
Met an african prancer, a hemisphere dancer
Spied the ghost of brassens
We smiled at the secret we shared
And I hid it like contraband
Quietly making noise (quietly making noise)
Starts with kindergarten toys
Not too soft, not too loud
Just enough to draw a crowd
Quietly, quietly, quietly making noise
Followed the beat
Hey I found myself in this patois spot
Outside a blizzard was blowin
But inside the joint was hot
Zouk songs, rubber thongs, sing-a-longs
The words flew right by my face
You know rhythm and motions a blamma jamma potion
You cannot erase
Quietly making noise (quietly making noise)
Pissin off the old kill-joys
Glasspacks on an hot mustang
A telecaster with a twang
Quietly, quietly, quietly making noise
Yes
Singers and writers and poets
Have flocked here for centuries
The city of light is built upon mountains of memories
Baritone saxophones, monotones
Speak with a voice Ive heard before
Its a lasting impression
A gypsy expression you cannot ignore
Were quietly making noise (quietly making noise)
Starts with kindergarten toys
Not too soft, not too loud
Just enough to draw a crowd
Quietly, quietly, quietly making noise
Yeah, were quietly making noise (quietly making noise)
Pissin off the old kill-joys
Not too soft, not too loud
Just enough to draw a crowd
Were quietly, quietly, quietly
Quietly, quietly, quietly
Quietly, quietly, quietly making noise
Thats right, ooh yeah
A whole lot of beautiful noise
--spoken:
Oh come on children, play those, play those kindergarten toys.
Everybodys a drummer tonight. all right. let it ring now, let
It ring.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Being in Boxes
Hard walled and
White
ON GUARD against
errant beams of light,
my cubicle is
half my home
but at night.
Memo to Self,
in Memorandum
a small death everyday
to be slave in return for pay
work, ALL work
and no play.
and all the dull boys
Jacks on their hills
work and work to pay the bills
to buy all the right toys
hope to play with the big boys.
and I sit quiet
in a box
I make no noise.
'shhhhhhhhhh'
my machines
hum and whisper
they say 'don't worry sister...
you won't go far'.
poem by Virginie Guillemette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Great Expectations
(eric carmen)
Seems everyday
Im gettin harder pressed
To find a reason to shave
Watchin the hours
Just slippin away
No motivation to get out of bed
And carry on the charade
Caught in a dream thats goin astray
Oh, all those great expectations
Seems they never work out, never work out
The way that I plan
All those great expectations
Why they never work out, never work out
I cant understand
And just when I think
That things are goin right
I get a call from l.a.
Sorry to say were changin your song
I try to reason
But I cant get through
Theyre gonna do it their way
What can I say
Theyve never been wrong
Oh, all those great expectations
Seems they never work out, never work out
The way that I plan
All those great expectations
Why they never work out, never work out
I cant understand
Life is just a game of chance
I think somebody said so
Sometimes you get a hula hoop
Sometimes you get an edsel
Oh, all those great expectations
Seems they never work out, never work out
The way that I plan
All those great expectations
Why they never work out, never work out
I cant understand
song performed by by Eric Carmen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skirt Machinist
I am making great big skirts
For great big women—
Amazons who've fed and slept
Themselves inhuman.
Such long skirts, not less than two
And forty inches.
Thirty round the waist for fear
The webbing pinches.
There must be tremendous tucks
On those round bellies.
Underneath the limbs will shake
Like wine-soft jellies.
I am making such big skirts
And all so heavy,
I can see their wearers at
A lord-mayor's levee.
I, who am so small and weak
I have hardly grown,
Wish the skirts I'm making less
Unlike my own.
poem by Lesbia Harford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Hill
In Italy, where this sort of thing can occur,
I had a vision once - though you understand
It was nothing at all like Dante's, or the visions of saints,
And perhaps not a vision at all. I was with some friends,
Picking my way through a warm sunlit piazza
In the early morning. A clear fretwork of shadows
From huge umbrellas littered the pavement and made
A sort of lucent shallows in which was moored
A small navy of carts. Books, coins, old maps,
Cheap landscapes and ugly religious prints
Were all on sale. The colors and noise
Like the flying hands were gestures of exultation,
So that even the bargaining
Rose to the ear like a voluble godliness.
And then, where it happened, the noises suddenly stopped,
And it got darker; pushcarts and people dissolved
And even the great Farnese Palace itself
Was gone, for all its marble; in its place
Was a hill, mole-colored and bare. It was very cold,
Close to freezing, with a promise of snow.
The trees were like old ironwork gathered for scrap
Outside a factory wall. There was no wind,
And the only sound for a while was the little click
Of ice as it broke in the mud under my feet.
I saw a piece of ribbon snagged on a hedge,
But no other sign of life. And then I heard
What seemed the crack of a rifle. A hunter, I guessed;
At least I was not alone. But just after that
Came the soft and papery crash
Of a great branch somewhere unseen falling to earth.
And that was all, except for the cold and silence
That promised to last forever, like the hill.
Then prices came through, and fingers, and I was restored
To the sunlight and my friends. But for more than a week
I was scared by the plain bitterness of what I had seen.
All this happened about ten years ago,
And it hasn't troubled me since, but at last, today,
I remembered that hill; it lies just to the left
Of the road north of Poughkeepsie; and as a boy
I stood before it for hours in wintertime.
poem by Anthony Evan Hecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whip
Great Great Great Great
is thy work
The fortune hunter
your uninterrupted lamp
has
torch light out the
parasite in their closet
like an erosion that called
the black pot of sacrifice of the perpetrator
Great Great Great Great
is thy work
The fervent farmer
your crude instrument
has
uprooted the unwanted ornament
in the vineyard
like locus waiting the planter
Great Great Great Great
is thy work
The lean steward
you never sleep nor slumber
in the quest of monitoring the
offender in the field like Nigeria
EFCC punching out the beautiful criminals
Great Great Great Great
is thy work
The no nonsense headmaster
with this
masquerade Cain whipping
the deaf prefect in the school of moral
The whip that caution the senior wife
is at the top of the roof for
YOU
poem by Samuel Abimbola Aladetan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gibberish
This gibberish winces in me,
Tying knots is all I have to do.
Confidential work has appeared
And my work is solid as silver.
The imp or sprite responsible for
Extinguishing my work is absent.
A macabre noise inside builds,
Much may happen fast without us.
The wincing is painful and often,
A conspicuous man or demon
So that of a sprite shall appear one day.
A monarchal work has crazed him,
The king was absent from the imp
When the imp laid in his shelter.
The gibberish has been shelved
By the librarians of noise, always horrific.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Football Stole my Man: A Song
Woke to the alarm clock a screaming
Pulling my away from all of my dreaming
the morning sun is hazy and grey, telling me it’s
Time to start my day: everyday seems just the same
And his mind is on that damn ole game
Sunday comes and he is hanging with the boys
They are out in the back jumping around and making all that noise
I just sit back and try to understand
How football came and stole away my man
His mind is drifting away again
I feel like I lost my best friend
I could back up and go away
A tired lady with three kids in tow
~laugh~ but no I know I will stay
Sunday comes and he is hanging with the boys
They are out in the back jumping around and making all that noise
I just sit back and try to understand
How football came and stole away my man
Saturday night and I put my make-up on and do my hair up pretty
Get all dressed up and take him to the city
And try to rekindle that old flame
Try to get back to where we began
When there was no football, just me and my man
but
Sunday comes and he is hanging with the boys
They are out in the back jumping around and making all that noise
I just sit back and try to understand
How football came and stole away my man
One more Sunday and we are hanging with the boys
Jumping around and making all that damn noise
Now that I am a fan
It is just football me and my man
© JPM 1/25/09
Lovingly Do The Work
Work is
Life...
Life is work...
Any work is not
Wrong...
Without work is
Worng...
Human every budy works
Wny way too work...s
Work is making you...
Work is given good life
For you...and your's...
So...
Understand too work
Earn money too work...
Live life with your work...
Love too work...
Learn to do the work...
Lovingely do the work...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On the night of the 1st of September we observed for the first time signs of the natives being in the neighbourhood. Fires were seen on the low land near Cape Frederick Henry, and at daylight we saw the natives with our glasses.
quote by William Bligh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work To Work
Happy too
Work...
Un happy too
work...
Love too
Woork...
With out love too
Work...
Silentely work...
Tenson to work...
Peace too work...
Diperession to work...
Work with work...
Any time do any
Work...
Work is give for
Human...
Relax and releave...
Sad too work...
Woory too work...
Work too work...
Work is wondrfully
Changed your and your's life
Each every day
Don't take un wanted rest
With your's lazey...
Lazy making
Sad... dipression...
Tenson...
Useless thinking...
So...
Work is wonder fully
Chnage to change for your's...
Mind and thinking and your's life...
Woo
Work to work with you
And other's...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tight Wad Hill
Cheapskate on the hill
A thrill seeker making deals
Sugar city urchin wasting time
Town of lunatics
Begging for another fix
Turning tricks for speedballs
One more night
Making your rounds once again
Turning up empty handed
Bumming a ride
Burning daylight
Last up at dawn... tight wad hill
Drugstore hooligan
Another white trash mannequin
On display to rot up on the hill
Living out a lie
But having the time of his life
Hating every minute of his existance
song performed by by Green Day from Insomniac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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