The only difference between a dead skunk lying in the road and a dead lawyer lying in the road is that there are skid marks around the skunk.
quote by Patrick Murray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead frog on the road
Dead frog lying on the road silently
oh, what's wrong with it?
people waked by it, busily
without a pay
oh, what's wrong with it?
dead frog lying on the road silently
i saw it from far away
some strange feelings arised in my heart
i walked by it, sorrowly
as if walked by my valentine
poem by Vincent Man
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To me, there's no better symbol for the world than a grasshopper lying dead on a gravel road, and maybe there's a globe lying next to him.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Skunk In Two Parts
I.
An Animal
With a Whole Lot
Of Funk
Is
The Skunk.
II.
On a Carousel
Or in the Darkness
A Skunk Will Still Smell.
poem by M.L. Squier
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The Smell of a Dog
I love the way a dog smells.
Ever since I was a boy,
I have loved the smell of a dog's paws,
leathery pads, edged with fur,
that absorb the rich, musty fragrances
of where the dog and I have been
in our adventures together.
I love the smell of the top of a dog's head,
where the fur is smoother than at any other
part of the animal
and is usually cleaner, too.
The top-of-the-head smell is fresher than the paw,
more like the smell of a little boy's hair
at the end of a summer's day in the sun.
I don't mind
the faint smell of skunk on a dog,
(but only if it's faint) .
Snuggling down for a nap
with my skunk flavored companion
lying next to me
puts me back in another time,
when the world was new,
waiting to be explored and discovered
by my friends and me and our dogs;
when the little lame balloon man
was simply another reason to wonder.
Lyin' To Yourself
You tell me lies that you believe
You say its the real thing
I can see how you've deceived
I know what's happening
And seeing is believing 'til you find out that you're blind
You're Lying To Yourself (Lying To Yourself)
You're Lying To Yourself (Lying To Yourself)
Wake up, shake up, turn around
I'll give it to you straight
It's been too long, it's past a joke
Something I can't take
The cost is due, now tell me money ain't the means [to me it sounds like
"meaning"]
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
Lying To Yourself again, you're Lying to Yourself again
Lying To Yourself again, you're Lying To Yourself again
Lying in the morning
I'll kiss you goodbye
You won't regret a part of this
And neither will I
Revealing hearts with a common need play their hands
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
NOTE: This song is a B-side to the Alpha album single "The Smile Has Left
Your Eyes
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Rat
It wasnt me who shot the rat that is lying dead upon the floor,
It wasnt me who shot the cat who ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor
It wasnt me who shot the dog who ate the cat woh ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor
It wasnt me who shot the lion who ate the dog who ate the cat who ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor.
It wasnt me who shot the alien who ate the lion who ate the dog who ate the cat who ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor
That gun which shot the alien which ate the lion who ate the dog who ate tthe cat who ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor
I tell you who it was who killed them all
Twas my friend named Paul
poem by Conor Ross
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Trailer Park Child
trailer park child;
his brothers and sisters,
stray dogs and cats...
his momma a crack pipe,
his daddy an old truck
up on blocks...
eating old cereal
from the box with the rats...
but he can read....
eviction notices, Bible verses,
and the warning labels
on cigarette packs...
the dirty prodigal son,
no name, just 'boy! '
empty gasoline cans...
a dead skunk in the road!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dont Let It Bring You Down
Old man lying by the side of the road
With the lorries rolling by,
Blue moon sinking from the weight of the load
And the building scrape the sky,
Cold wind ripping down the allay at dawn
And the morning paper flies,
Dead man lying by the side of the road
With the daylight in his eyes.
Dont let it bring you down
Its only castles burning,
Find someone whos turning
And you will come around.
Blind man running through the light of the night
With an answer in his hand,
Come on down to the river of sight
And you can really understand,
Red lights flashing through the window in the rain,
Can you hear the sirens moan?
White cane lying in a gutter in the lane,
If youre walking home alone.
Dont let it bring you down
Its only castles burning,
Just find someone whos turning
And you will come around.
Dont let it bring you down
Its only castles burning,
Just find someone whos turning
And you will come around.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is sometimes very hard to tell the difference between history and the smell of skunk.
quote by Rebecca West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lying To Yourself
You tell me lies that you believe, you say its the real thing
I can see how youve deceived,
I know whats happening
And seeing is believing till you find out that youre blind
Youre lying to yourself, lying to yourself
Youre lying to yourself, lying to yourself
Wake up shake up turn around,
Ill give it to you straight it been too long its past a joke, something I cant take
The cost is due now tell me money aint the means
Youre lying to yourself,lying to yourself
Youre lying to yourself, lying to yourself
Lying to yourself again, youre lying to yourself again
Lying in the morning Ill kiss you goodbye
You wont regret a part of this and neither will i
Revealing hearts with a common need play their hands
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crash
Lying in bed
Crying your eyes out
Curled in a ball
Nice and tight
Crash today
Seven men died
Seven in a van
One in a car
Bottle of vodka
In the passenger
Seat
Driving unable to maintain
Drifting and veering
Unable to control
Car smash the van
Through the windshield
One goes
Lying on the floor
Others come and
Count dead bodies
One left live in the van
Mind regained and
Awareness received
All is dead
All is dead but you
Later that night
Lying in bed
Crying your eyes out
Curled in a ball
Magnum in hand
Silence has come
Lying in bed
No more crying
Curled in a ball
Lose and feeble
No sound is silent
Eight men died
Today
poem by Tommy D'Attore
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En-Dor
Behold there is a woman that hath a familiar spirit at En-dor. -- I Samuel, xxviii. 7
The road to En-dor is easy to tread
For Mother or yearning Wife.
There, it is sure, we shall meet our Dead
As they were even in life.
Earth has not dreamed of the blessing in store
For desolate hearts on the road to En-dor.
Whispers shall comfort us out of the dark--
Hands--ah God!--that we knew!
Visions .and voices --look and hark!--
Shall prove that the tale is true,
An that those who have passed to the further shore
May' be hailed--at a price--on the road to En-dor.
But they are so deep in their new eclipse
Nothing they say can reach,
Unless it be uttered by alien lips
And I framed in a stranger's speech.
The son must send word to the mother that bore,
'Through an hireling's mouth. 'Tis the rule of En-dor.
And not for nothing these gifts are shown
By such as delight our dead.
They must twitch and stiffen and slaver and groan
Ere the eyes are set in the head,
And the voice from the belly begins. Therefore,
We pay them a wage where they ply at En-dor.
Even so, we have need of faith
And patience to follow the clue.
Often, at first, what the dear one saith
Is babble, or jest, or untrue.
(Lying spirits perplex us sore
Till our loves--and their lives--are well-known at
En-dor). . . .
Oh the road to En-dor is the oldest road
And the craziest road of all!
Straight it runs to the Witch's abode,
As it did in the days of Saul,
And nothing has changed of the sorrow in store
For such as go down on the road to En-dor!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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No More 'Scha-nookie Dookie' Made
You say you married a skunk.
And I feel more like a monk on a donkey.
All I get to hear is junk.
With lots of lumps on me you dump.
You say you married a skunk.
And I feel more like a monk on a donkey.
No more quick done rabbit humps.
With less hops from a bed that jumped.
I hear our neighbors say,
How I treat you nasty everyday.
That's your way of mutilation.
I hear our neighbors say,
What I do and how I spend my pay.
You've been putting our business in their way.
And you will pay for that one day.
Your humiliation has decayed.
And your wicked stubbornness is sick.
No matter who you get to defend your...
Schanookie dookie that you make.
You say you married a skunk.
And I feel more like a monk on a donkey.
All I get to hear is junk.
With lots of lumps on me you dump.
You say you married a skunk.
And I feel more like a monk on a donkey.
No more quick done rabbit humps.
With less hops from a bed that jumped.
And no more 'scha-nookie dookie' made.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not lying there, but dying
Nobody saw him, the dead man
but still he was there
lying in the sun in the park
as he did the day before.
Poor guy, homeless, always was alone
a weathered man, some would call him a hobo
weathering the sun, sometimes the rain,
the winter chill,
having nothing to eat
and suddenly he was dead
and thought by everyone to be lying in the sun
and the last part of his life
he was weathering the elements
caught a nasty cough,
was days without food
and wasn’t lying there but dying.
[References: This poem was inspired by a article in the local newspaper (The Springs Advertiser) with the title: Left to die. Not Waving But Drowning by Stevie Smith.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dead Or Alive
Well the new sheriff sent me a letter
Yes the new sheriff sent me a letter
He said, come up and see me dead or alive,
Come up and see me dead or alive.
Well its a hard road dead or alive
Its a hard road dead or alive
Well its a hard road dead or alive
Its a hard road dead or alive
Well I really dont like your hard rock hotel (yeah) sheriff
Well I really dont like your hard rock hotel, sheriff
Dead or alive, no sheriff
Dead or alive, no sheriff
Well its a hard road dead or alive
And its a hard road dead or alive
And its a hard road dead or alive
And its a hard road dead or alive
Well he even sent me my picture
(oh yeah, and hello)
He even sent me my picture
(yeah yeah)
Hey, how do I look boy (wonderful)
Dead or alive?
How do I look boy (sweet) dead or alive?
Its a hard road dead or alive
Its a hard road dead or alive
Well, its a hard road dead or alive
And its a hard road dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Guy Stickers
In the USA,
They want to put dead guy pictures on cigarette packs.
With that brilliant logic in mind, I say put dead guy stickers on:
car windshields(dead guys in wrecks)
pistol and rifle handles (dead guys shot)
marriage licenses (dead spouses)
hamburger and hot dog wrappers (dead fat guys)
pies, cakes (more dead fat guys)
bathroom doors (thousands of dead guys in bathrooms every year)
bicycles (road kill dead guys)
fire places (burnt dead guys)
swimming pools (drown dead guys)
every electrical outlet (fried dead guys)
air plane tickets (dead passenger guys)
the beach (shark bit dead guys)
cities (shot dead guys)
air (blue dead guys)
fish (poisoned dead guys)
motorcycles (more road kill dead guys)
scarfs (strangled dead guys)
football helmets (brain dead guys)
hot tubs (more drowned dead guys)
and so on.
Just about everything can kill you, such as:
Mothers (dead baby guys plus dead fathers)
Fathers (dead baby guys plus dead mothers)
Police(multiple dead guys and chicks)
Drugs (multiple dead guys and chicks)
and so on.
Once everything has a dead guy sticker on it,
You've been warned and the world will be safer, right?
It shows we care, right?
poem by Richard Jarboe
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My Devil You Were
I keep telling myself that I don't need you
but you keep whispering in my ear telling me that I do
and I believe you
I believe everything you say
even though it was everything you said
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
Because no other girl has been here since you left
and for no other girl have I shead a tear, I'm all cried out I have none left
cause I know you love to think that you took them all
but they were gone long before
for you I didn't watch a single one fall, I was never alive I was already dead
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
and I paint it red
I paint it red
the colour of blood shows that it is already dead
I keep telling myself that I don't need you
but you keep whispering in my ear telling me that I do
and I believe you
I believe everything is red
even though it was everything you said
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
and it is all red
he paints it red
my picture of his horns it shows its now never dead.
poem by Daniel McCann
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There's A New Kid In Town
duet with Keith Whitley
(Don Cook/Curly Putman/Keith Whitley)
We're looking for The King
The new Messiah
We're following the star
Shining brighter
Old man won't you help us if you can
He shook his head
But he pointed his hand
There's a new kid in town
And he's lying in a manger down the road
There's a new kid in town
But he's just another baby I suppose
Heaven knows
There's a new kid in town
Here in Bethlehem
I see you've traveled far
Bearing treasures
You say these gifts are for
The new Kings pleasures
Well I've heard
That a King might come
But up 'til now there hasn't been one
There's a new kid in town
And he's lying in a manger down the road
There's a new kid in town
But he's just another baby I suppose
Heaven knows
There's a new kid in town
Here in Bethlehem
There's a new kid in town
And he's lying in a manger down the road
There's a new kid in town
But he's just another baby I suppose
Heaven knows
There's a new kid in town
Here in Bethlehem
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That poor cat
(This is a true story)
When I saw a dead cat lying on the road, it made me feel bad.
This yellow cat had been killed by a car and it was very sad.
I can imagine how that cat's owner must feel.
They must be hurting because of this ordeal.
My own cat died several weeks ago and I felt misery within.
It's bad when a pet dies because you'll never see it again.
poem by by unknown author
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Quiescent
The feat,
Your feet,
Quizzical!
But the quiescent of this muse is from the eating.
Quiescent, tin, tins, in, it, is, queen, queens, sue, teen;
And like a dead bird on the road,
But the quiescent of your muse is in the making.
Quiescent, sent, scent, set, sit, quiet, quest, quite, teens;
And like a dead cat on the road,
But, you have to appease your friend with the muse of love.
Quiescent, cent, ten, net, nets, see, seen, tie, ties, nest, use;
And like a dead dog on the road,
But you need love to carry on this mission.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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