Once when I was 16 I had my car taken away from me for being past curfew. Oh, and I said a bad word once, and I actually did get my mouth washed out with soap.
quote by Ashlee Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Word Of Mouth
Ive been trying to get a message to you,
But the operator cant put me through,
Because the vandals went and wrecked all the telephones.
And all my enemies are spreading bad news,
You wont call me, thats why Im calling you,
To put you straight about the rumors theyre spreading about me back home.
I should have known, sooner or later,
Youd get the news, sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
Somehow we lost communication,
My only chance in my situation,
Is that the word of mouth gets my message through.
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth says that Ive gone insane,
That wine and women have affected my brain.
Well whos the big mouth spreading the news again?
The word of mouth says Im round the bend,
Its all over, this is the end.
Exaggeration sure gets the better of people who send[? ].
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth said I should be put in my place.
The word is out Im in disgrace -- a waste of space.
But if they say it, say it to my face.
People talking, trying to dig up the dirt,
There are so many lies around.
They spread their gossip and the rumors around this town.
Word of mouth, face to face,
My word of mouth has stated my case,
And Im saying Im coming back home to you.
You should have know sooner or later,
Youd get the news sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
The word of mouth,
Shut your mouth,
Shut your face!
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Washed my Feet
Mmmm I know to most this may not seem like much but last night my man washed my feet. He took the sponge and dipped in the water then he held over my feet and let the warm water dripped down on. Woo it felt so good. He then lathered up his big strong hands with soap and began massaging my feet. It felt like ecstasy. Now, he was done with his soap massage he once again wet them with the sponge and when he was done my feet shined like two new pennies. He then dried them and girl that man of mine finished by giving my feet a kiss. I know my man loved me because last night he washed my feet.
Note: This is fictional I wrote this from a woman's point of view.
Story
"And if he's gone away," said she,
"Good riddance, if you're asking me.
I'm not a one to lie awake
And weep for anybody's sake.
There's better lads than him about!
I'll wear my buckled slippers out
A-dancing till the break of day.
I'm better off with him away!
And if he never come," said she,
"Now what on earth is that to me?
I wouldn't have him back!"
I hope
Her mother washed her mouth with soap.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fish In A Bowl
Everywhere I go
A thousand faces stare at me
Eating from the palm
A date from hand to mouth
Break a leg!
The shoes are on the bottom
On your way
But the wardrobe always stays wide open
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up
Fish in a bowl
Everywhere I go
All bob and weave
Or sew it seams
Aiming low in life
They keep their noses clean
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up
Fish in a bowl
An ordered life from start to finish
And my timing is out
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up...fish!
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People used to complain that selling a president was like selling a bar of soap. But when you buy soap, at least you get the soap. In this campaign you just get two guys telling you they really value cleanliness.
quote by David Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't say a word about him! (Russian romance)
Don't say a word about him!
The days of love I still remember.
He's only one to be confessed
My heart is broken and forever.
Oh, don't say a word about him!
Don't say a word about him!
He is to blame that I am sad
I stopped believing in anybody
I'm so lonely in my heart
And I am tired to be young.
Please, don't say a word about him!
Don't say a word about him!
Why you remind about him?
I can't forget the days I loved him.
All in the past, the past has gone
That's why I'm shedding lonely tears.
Please, don't say a word about him!
Don't say a word about him!
He is to blame, but if he would
Come back and love me as he did
I would forget the past as a dream
And never say a word against him.
Oh! ! ! Just tell me more about him!
Just tell me more about him!
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We washed my car
It was a warm summers day
We washed my car outside
Talking, laughing, splashing
We washed the car with pride
You looked so cute and sexy
With soap suds in your hair
I stopped and smiled at you
And yes I had to stare
You looked at me and frowned
Oh how I loved that look
I laughed and simply smiled
You in my arms I took
Our hands were wet, so was the kiss
Our tongues were warm inside
Your body mine aroused
Your awesome smile so wide
We threw the sponges down
Together as fell
Wet and cold entwined
We kissed without a tell
poem by Bradley Lester
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bitter Word
I taste bitterness in my mouth
each time I hear the word war.
It's a taste that's born of compassion
from a word that's been heard before.
Too young they die
not knowing why.
Too young they leave
and as we grieve
I hear that word again.
I spit from the bitter taste of it
and it still won't go away.
It's the same old word that drives me mad
and reminds me every day
that man is pliable in the hands
of ones whose insatiable need
never tastes bitterness in their mouth
from the word or from the deed.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soap
you wish i were true
to every word i wrote in my poems
like sadness
that i must be sad when my poems
talk about sadness
like separation and disgust and pain
that i must suffer
with the poems i write that i must have despair
and pain too
and disgust
for every word of disgust written in every word
in every line
how cruel of you
how cruel of truth
how can i justify my death when i speak only of death
and in the very poem
where i write the word
death
there is soap
there is this box of untruths in pandora and when i open it
they must spread and you may refuse to believe
me again
but it would be very cruel of you
to make these poems
all these poems be my life my only life
and lived
and day by day lived in accordance with the
mouths of these poems
empathy
is the word, it is like i am putting my feet in another person's
shoes
then i write, and i could have written about this word: happiness
joy, bliss
ecstasy, light, and amazing glory
i choose not to,
i think, i have too much of it, and i do not share it for now
there is no necessity
and i cannot really help
with so much loneliness and sadness out there
with them i stretch my hands to hold them and feel them
and they all become
myself. it is not soap then, and there are no bubbles in the skies
there is no child playing amazed by the bubbles that burst and by the
bubbles that
are so abundant.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woman And Poetry
writing poems together
with that woman is so much fun
i write mine, (i am much better than that woman)
i ask her to read my poems she obliges with her spectacles
as she opens her mouth to syllabicate
i gulp some saliva to my mouth
this woman is terrible
she makes me giggle
i have her word for word i have her metaphor per metaphor
there is no time to discuss
i like her to undress this time
i'll take the magic of her word
this time i will open my mouth
this time i will read all of her
i will not discuss i will not understand
i will just feel these metaphors
this mouth this tongue this body
this most important poetry
this love this lust this moment
after we have written
our poems together.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lousy Day
got a neck collar
afraid of the water
the soap snugs
the shampoo seals
like a mouth not
wanting a word
there is no comb
for the hair
strangled last night
by hefty hands
half naked one
faces the monitor
without blinking
the toothbrush is dry
the toothpaste is bitter
coffee is cold
and the rice smells
the bacon is not crisp
the table is dirty
three flies make a feast
of the sunny side up egg
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blind Youth
No future they say
But must it be that way?
Now is calling
The city is human
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Weve had it easy, we should be glad
High-rise livings not so bad
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Dehumanisation
Is such a big word
Its been around since
Richard the third
Dehumanisation
Its easy to say
But if youre not a hermit
Youll know the citys okay
No future they say
But must it be that way
Now is calling
The city is human
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Weve had it easy, we should be glad
High-rise livings not so bad
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'The Word
Word of love and the Word made flesh
Word incarnate forever blessed
Word of life and the Word of light
Word of power and Word of might.
Word that was spoken, Word of the Lord
Word of the Law and the Word of God
Word of peace and Word eternal
Word of truth and last Word of all.
Word of wisdom and the Word of healing
Word from heaven, a Word so appealing
Word fulfilling the Word of prophecy
Word of the Spirit and Word of destiny.
Word of exhortation and Word of grace
Word of encouragement and Word of faith
Word of promise and a Word of insight
Word from the beginning and Word of delight.
Word of knowledge and a Word of boldness
Word of peace and the Word of righteousness
Word of the covenant and Word of love
Word of the Father from heaven above.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Lourdes 2006
Jimmy opened his suitcase in the room
at Lourdes and said Oh no there's molasses
all over the clothes and shoes and I've got
a whole week here and he sat down in a chair
his head in his hands saying What have I done?
What am I going to do for clothes now? you
went over and looked in and sure enough
the molasses were over his clothes and shoes.
What am I going to do? he said and you said
Leave it to me Jim I'll sort it and you went through
the clothes taking out the items untouched
by the molasses and set them aside on the bed
and then carried the suitcase of black sticky items
Into the washroom and there one by one you carefully
washed them through with soap and water until
they were clean and smelt of soap and fresh air
and all the while 94 year old Jim sat in a chair
watching with his eyes watery and jaw hung loose
seeing the black water run down the wide plughole
and once it was done you wrung the clothes out
like your mother used to do when you were a kid
and hung them out on the balcony on the small
clothesline and placed the washed out black shoes
by the outside wall to dry out in the hot afternoon
sun and Jimmy came over and stood on the balcony
with one hand on the rail and the other on his stick
looking over at the Pyrenees in the distance and he
said That was real good of you. I owe you big time
and you stood next to him feeling the hot afternoon
sun on your face and arms and felt good and you
said You owe me nothing Jim I just did what some
good guy would and his watery eyes swept over you
matching the French sky's watery afternoon blue.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crawford washed her hands a lot. She washed her arms all the way up past her elbows. She just couldn't get enough done in that direction. She was compulsive about being clean, clean, clean!
Mecha-mania Boy
This is the boy who burns the books
This is the way he always looks
This is the boy who smashed his car
This is the boy who went too far
Washed his eye with yellow soap
He stole his daddys microscope
All alone, were not proud
Never say his name aloud
Now he wants to know your little mistakes
Where he goes, and whence he came
Its a mecha-mania boy
This is the boy who never sunk
He aint the one who destroys his young
Oh, no
Everybody thats the way to roll
All alone or on the telephone
He knows the time you spend at home
Oh, no
Never say I didnt tell you so
Washed his hands of a deadly fate
He put himself in an altered state
In a crowd or all alone
No-ones laughing anymore
Now he wants to know your little mistakes
Where he goes, and whence he came
Hes a mecha-mania boy
All alone, were not proud
Never say his name aloud
Now he wants to know your little mistakes
Where he goes, and whence he came
Its a mecha-mania boy
In a crowd or all alone
No-ones laughing anymoer
Now he wants to know your little mistakes
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Word
Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.
Keep It Clean
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
So hard they've tried to reflect perfection.
A wholesome outlook,
With good deeds done they do!
They want to project a godlike self righteousness.
With wings adorned and hymns sung!
Angelic voices from everyone,
Harmonizing,
In collective united bliss.
But the truth about this...
There is BS that sits within their midst,
And not one of them can resist
An addicting sniff!
Since they are all full of it!
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Something kept stinking...
From fat greasy meat.
Suited and smoking cigars,
Chartering planes with high profiled stars.
And posing with those who piloted...
The sucking up of all resources.
As admirers rejoiced!
Thinking they heard 'voices' from beyond...
'You too could live like this!
We'll make sure of it! '
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Screwing fools!
'Keep it clean! '
That's what they do best!
'Keep the scene serene.
Deodorize the stench that leaks.
Protect that image.
And hide the blood left...
To leave as expected on urban streets! '
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
By the time it surfaces...
There will be nothing left to squander.
And the fools we duped with treason,
Will have nothing left to value...
And very little to say!
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soap opera wouldn't be my first choice, but at this point in my life, I would consider a soap. It would allow me to act and still do other things with my life.