Scratch an artist and you surprise a child.
quote by James Huneker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The One
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Heard you had a story to tell
Sold your soul in a kiss and tell
Sliding down on a helter skelter ride
Into yesterday
No way out, the price of fame
Once its told will you be the same
Rolling down on a roller coaster ride
Well be waiting for you
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Shock the world with your fall from grace
Glory days gone without a trace
No surprise youre a face without a name
But we all still love you
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Its time to tell you
Were faithful and true
Take us back to the days
When we could dream
cos it makes us happy
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Itch and Scratch
You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.
Just like a train
on a railroad track
You go away today
and tomorrow come back.
Try taking an aeroplane
instead of a car,
then hop on a rocket
to a distant star.
You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.
And just like an itch
you’ve got under my skin,
this is a situation
that I just can’t win.
Please give me a break
and get off my back.
Get out of here
and don’t come back.
You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scratch My Back
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
One good turn deserves another
Be my love, Ill be your lover
Its all part of natures laws
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch yours.
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
Like two peas in a pack, lets get rid of our itch together, hmm
Joy they say is in the giving
Come on give, make life worth living
Your welfare is my concern
Do a favour for me, Ill do one in return
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
Like two peas in a pack, lets get rid of our itch together, hmm
Scratch me now a little lower
What a feeling do it slower
Thats it, hmm youre getting hot
Well I gotta admit, you just hit the spot
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
Like two peas in a pack, lets get rid of our itch together, hmm
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The mother and the artist
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of wonderfully emollient freshness; every
unfurling instant of impregnably magnificent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of spellbindingly undefeated innocence; every
unfurling instant of symbiotically pristine existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of timelessly unconquerable truth; every unfurling
instant of bounteously magnanimous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unfathomably unfettered creativity; every
unfurling instant of timelessly burgeoning existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of royally triumphant resplendence; every
unfurling instant of unconquerably majestic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of eternally exhilarating vivaciousness; every
unfurling instant of redolently insuperable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbelievably ameliorating optimism; every
unfurling instant of marvelously benign existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of brilliantly liberated camaraderie; every
unfurling instant of iridescently inscrutable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unshakably virgin righteousness; every
unfurling instant of beautifully untainted existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of uninhibitedly heavenly frolic; every unfurling
instant of tantalizingly sensuous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of compassionately humanitarian friendship; every
unfurling instant of magically mitigating existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of miraculously everlasting freshness; every
unfurling instant of invincibly coalescing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of pricelessly ubiquitous oneness; every unfurling
instant of robustly blessed existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbreakably Omnipotent desire; every unfurling
instant of victoriously effulgent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unceasingly reinvigorating fantasy; every
unfurling minute of poignantly charismatic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of insurmountably intrepid enchantment; every
unfurling minute of rhapsodically unhindered existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Omnisciently tranquil serenity; every unfurling
instant of endlessly bestowing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of perpetually fragrant breath; every unfurling
instant of Omnipresently benevolent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Immortally ardent love; every unfurling instant
of limitlessly fructifying existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fantastically alleviating poetry; every
unfurling instant of boundlessly splendid existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fabulously effervescent tanginess; every
unfurling instant of spiritually uplifting existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unlimitedly enlightening Sunshine; every
unfurling instant of infallibly luminescent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of immaculately godly melody; every unfurling
instant of amiably melanging existence,
Because. And Only Because. A Mother is; has and shall for times immemorial
remain the Greatest Sculptor of every organism on this astoundingly
multiplying Universe; A Mother is the Greatest Artist….
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gratefully Not Available
No thanks!
Scratch me off your list.
No matter where I appear on it.
You call...
After all these years.
To have a confrontation,
Or to leave me in tears?
Which is it?
A call to see how I am doing?
To ask who I am screwing of late?
What audacity you have,
To think I am here waiting?
I'm surprise you're still alive!
I have no intentions to return to your jive.
No thanks!
Scratch me off your list.
No matter where I appear on it.
I am doing well.
And I hope you are too.
I have no animosity in my heart for you.
I have gone on with my life...
Inspired and motivated.
Is that what you do?
You want us to discuss what went wrong?
You want us to reconnect,
To make what you left stronger...
From your point of view?
You must be crazed to believe those days,
With you I wish to relive.
To raise more havoc I rid from myself...
To invite back with you to live?
You're nuts!
No thanks!
Scratch me off your list.
No matter where I appear on it.
And no matter what thoughts you had,
And still have of me...
I appreciate your call.
However...
Erase from your mind,
Any memories you believe I still cherish.
No thanks!
Scratch me off your list.
No matter where I appear on it.
In fact...
Burn it!
And connect this to your mind:
'For you there is not time!
It has gone.
And I am gratefully not available! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mutual Itch One Lonely Night
this mutual each we have
one lonely night
when the moon sails in the
black sky
and the stars are too near
like lilies to the sailboat
on the placid lake,
i scratch my itch
you scratch yours
but what about our backs
those parts that i cannot reach
and you cannot reach
too
we follow the natural law
i'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine
no more no less
we are just
but friends,
tonight
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.
quote by Pablo Picasso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Child's Expression
A look of awe
on a child's face,
Discover.
A look of surprise,
on a child's face
Delights her.
A look of fear,
on a child's face
Reassure her.
A look of pain
on a child's face
Soothe her.
A look of glee
on a child's face
Laugh with her.
Expressions of a child
Innocent and true,
Expressions of a child
Save the image in you.
Red Balloon (Vishnu's Eyes)
Verse 1
Bought myself a red balloon and a blue surprise
Cause hidden in the read balloon was a peny for my eyes
Chorus
She took her lovelight from my eyes
Oh blue surprise
She took her lovelight from my eyes
Blue surprise
Verse 2
Played with toys for children as a child I got
Haven't any time for children although I've got a lot, hey
Chorus
She took her lovelight from my eyes
Oh blue surprise
She took her lovelight from my eyes
Blue surprise
Blue surprise, yeah
Chorus
She took her lovelight from my eyes
Oh blue surprise
She took her lovelight from my eyes
Blue surprise
Yeah, blue surprise
Blue surprise, yeah
Bridge
Blue surprise
Blue surprise
Vishnu's eyes
Loving eyes
Bridge
Blue surprise
Blue surprise
Vishnu's eyes
Loving eyes
song performed by by Kula Shaker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Nude Artist
A Nude Artist
he says he is a nude artist
because he is naked when he paints
such nakedness has
nothing to do with being a nude artist
a naked artist who paints a cat or a chicken
is not a nude artist
there is no nude cat
thyere is no nude chicken
just paint a naked woman
and he will be called a nude artist
an artist is not an art
he must know that
- Frog Mantra, Accents Publishing,2012 -
poem by Suchoon Mo_
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Gnat Nebulae
Full pummelling fisticuffs
Stitch over stitch
In and out
Imperceptibly kaleidoscopic
Swirling from ear to ear
Sporadic
Thrumming mystical notes
Notes of whisper
Whisper in the ear
Now a bothered swish of clawing
Cleaving slipping fingers
Immalleable rolling universal ball
Microcosmic needle into
Macrocosmic wool all
Silently thudding kneading pulling
Sealing a sin all opened unforgiven
Eternally whispering to a few
And never really heard
Pummelling sewing the invisible centre
Round and round the darkless sun
Only the end that began
Only a scratch and a bother
What bother to scratch
For scratching bothers
Bothers a scratch
Scratch and not to bother
Scratch Scratch Scratch
Dedicated to J.C. Alldridge
(©: T. Wignesan - Paris,1957; from T. Wignesan. Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961; first pub. in 'Forum Academicum', University of Heidelberg,1957)
poem by T. Wignesan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Scratch Therefore I Am
i scratch therefore
i am
a cat.....
(a tomcat
or a tiger on the loose of a safari in your mind)
you itch therefore
you are
a dog....(or a bitch
or a fungus in the
anus)
you itch and i scratch
therefore
we exist,
therefore
we are.
animates, needing something to thrive upon,
we evolve and get complicated, we revolve around something
and get a little
sophisticated,
we scratch some more, we itch some more,
no longer cats, or tigers, or dogs or bitches, we go beyond
these animated needs,
we somehow say
we need love this time...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baby What A Big Surprise
Right before my very eyes
I thought that you were only fakin it
And like before my heart was takin it
Baby what a big surprise
Right before my very eyes
Yesterday it seemed to me
My life was nothing more than wasted time
But here today youve softly changed my mind
Baby what a big surprise
Right before my very eyes
Baby what a big surprise
Just to be alone
Was a little more than I could take
Then you came to stay
Hold me in the morning
Love me in the afternoon
Help me find my way
Baby what a big surprise
Right before my very eyes
Baby what a big surprise
Baby what a big surprise
Right before my very eyes
Baby what a big surprise
song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The main reason he wanted to be a recording artist was because it gives you much more freedom in your writing. You only have to please the artist and the artist is you so you can be more daring and experimental.
quote by Cynthia Weil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You are born an artist or you are not. And you stay an artist, dear, even if your voice is less of a fireworks. The artist is always there.
quote by Maria Callas
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Pack
A bit of metaphysics or a psychologic catch
Will sit upon my breast all day and scratch and scratch and
scratch. Now isn't it a pity that the ragged thorns of culture Should be tearing at my vitals, as Prometheus's the vulture?
I really have no liking for abstruse and subtle question.
I prefer to laugh in sunshine and to cherish my digestion.
But a pack of eager queries, barking, barking, hound me on,
Until I find an hour of life's pure delight is gone.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford
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Scratch The Surface
Scratch the surface serve a purpose
scratch the surface don't waste my time
Such empty life Such simple sheep night after night
herd to the creeps all hidden faults beauty is null
such shallow sight barely skin deep
What is the force that drives the superficial
tell me what keeps their minds remaining little
so afraid of what they'd see underneath the fantasy
so afraid to actually scratch the surface.
All mirrors hide Big money lies faillure inside
big lying eyes that's maybe why eyes are the soul
they take so much time big dollar signs
song performed by by Sick Of It All from Scratch The Surface
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Devils Child
scratch me, watch me bleed
rape me, infect my seed
birth the child
of a whore and rapist
devils child grow strong
inside the whore
push and tear to freedom
my child come to play
rip free from prisoned flesh
sing your fathers words
seven chorus from just one voice
the demons in your throat
so old turn to dust
leave this peacefull dwelling
never fret and do not tread
on earth the flamless hell
poem by Scarlett Burton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Surprise
Around every corner is a surprise,
something new for our eyes
to gaze upon and marvel at.
We never know what it will be
or what shape it will take.
All we know for certain
as our lives progress
is that something will take us
wholly and utterly by surprise.
No one can predict if the surprise
will be good or bad.
All we know for certain
around each corner in life
there is a surprise.
poem by David Harris
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The Artist
The Artist and his Luckless Wife
They lead a horrid haunted life,
Surrounded by the things he's made
That are not wanted by the trade.
The world is very fair to see;
The Artist will not let it be;
He fiddles with the works of God,
And makes them look uncommon odd.
The Artist is an awful man,
He does not do the things he can;
He does the things he cannot do,
And we attend the private view.
The Artist uses honest paint
To represent things as they ain't,
He then asks money for the time
It took to perpetrate the crime.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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