I'm old enough and cranky enough now that if someone tried to tell me what to do, I'd tell them where to put it.
quote by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Leave Those Cranky People Alone
It is best to leave those cranky alone.
It pays to leave those cranky people alone.
Leave those cranky people,
Seeking nothing but an evil.
You,
Just...
Leave those cranky people alone!
When you answer your telephone,
To stop a constant ringing.
Just leave those cranky people alone.
And all you hear is whining,
With a blues heard singing.
Just,
Leave those cranky people alone.
It pays to leave those cranky people alone.
It is best to leave those cranky...
Alone.
Don't condone it.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you try to own it!
Leave those people alone.
Don't,
Condone it.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you try to even own it!
Leave those people alone.
When nothing but complaints,
Drop out of their mouths.
Just,
Leave those cranky people alone.
It is best to leave those cranky alone.
It pays to leave those cranky...
Alone.
Keep your mind freed from heating.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you dare accept their beating.
Leave those people alone.
When you feel a headache brewing,
And you don't know what to do.
Hey..
Leave those cranky people alone!
In the morning when the Sun comes,
Shining on you bright!
Don't you turn away to get it out of your sight,
No!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone!
In the morning when the Sun comes,
Shining on you bright!
Don't you turn away to get it out of your sight,
No!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Once Had The Body Of A God.
Now I'm a fat old sod.
Too many cakes and cream buns,
Around my fat chair are too many crumbs.
Once with the hair of a star,
I could have gone far.
Now the head is bald,
And the girls' no longer call.
The skin is red and blotchy,
And my temperament rather crotchety.
I walk the length of our house,
And want to sleep like the church mouse.
If you think I'm a cranky man presa,
You should see me on a bad day!
I'm down on myself and can't stand my ways,
The memory of the body beautiful is a haze.
Maybe tomorrow will see me in a better frame,
My humour may return but not betting just the same.
I could measure the possibility by chain, perch, or rod,
But I'll just be the same bald, cranky, blotchy, crotchety old sod.
RKH 29/08/2012 2: 17 PM
Your wrinkles either show that you're nasty, cranky, and senile, or that you're always smiling.
quote by Carlos Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wanted to be that cranky old guy that stands on his porch and yells at the neighborhood kids.
quote by Robert Lansing
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In a cage at Saskatchewan Zoo
lived a cranky old cockatoo,
he was talking all day
and had something to say
to the resident kangaroo.
quote by by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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But I like being nasty. I like being cranky. Especially if it's a cold day in Chicago, it's nice to just take it out on Kyle, because he's so easy to scream at, you know?
quote by Fisher Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love You
this afternoon
really I'm boring
my own quiet
no derisive your laughters
shouting
that I
cranky
but in the hearts
i love you
seriously
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This afternoon
this afternoon
really boring
own quiet
no derisive yaour laughters
shouting
that I
cranky
but in the hearts
i love you
seriously
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Grey Fantail
The bushmen call me 'Cranky Fan,'
Because my strange erratic flight
Seems to uncomprehending man
Sign of a wit not over-bright;
But nimble wit and nimble wing
Uphold me in the trade I ply
Of ever-restless foraging
Excuse me - there's another fly!
A tireless ball of buff and grey;
White-shafted, my important tail
Guides me on my unstable way
When stronger aviators fail;
Now right rise up, now upside down,
Now tumbling crazily from high,
I ape the antics of a clown
Whoop! - and that's another fly!
'Tis thus my daily fare I earn
By nimble trick of wit and wing;
And, when my nestlings so would learn,
A clothes-line is a handy thing.
And that is why we're sitting now,
Tho' not for long, my brood and I,
That they may be instructed how
Whoop! - and that's another fly!
I loop the loop with careless ease,
Now in a tail-spin watch me fall;
Yet, spite these eccentricities
I am the friendliest bird of all.
Upon your shoulder, lordly man,
I pause as I go flitting by.
Spare a kind word for Cranky Fan
Whoop! - and that's another fly!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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These days I have to be extra nice in stores. It never fails that whenever I look as bad as I can possibly look or I am sort of cranky because the store is out of something, that is precisely the time when someone one will recognize me and say: 'I really like your show.'
quote by Lauren Graham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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4: 55
and so it will be that
i will give you the flesh that you love
and you shall live well
and i will keep the bones
those cranky ones that you set aside
and i will listen to the sounds
of old age
and i will keep what i have learned from
this experience
you are the geek
that keeps what splices of happiness is there
those that are temporary
and i am the outmoded that keeps
what i think shall last forever
but at the end
we are even
beyond these musings
and callings
along the roads of our choices
these patches and parches
we all shall turn into nothing
but dusts
and i shall take pride no more
of what i am and
what i had been
neither shall you whose name
must i have
also forgotten
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Not Going Anywhere
i remember her
all in white
all dressed
but not going anywhere
she has a name
she gives herself
a little sip
of descartes
and jean paul-Sartre
and the rest
from whom
there is neither
entrance nor
exit
trapped. caught.
claustrophobic.
caustic. sour cream.
cranky
she wants
an immersion in murky
rivers
she cannot thing
of any place beyond
her or us
her hand reaches
for her hand
alone.
my atheist lover..
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Just To Keep The Critics Cranky
Why wont you let us see,
What is going on backstage?
'And let you witness what it takes,
To get this magic produced?
Are you kidding?
No way.
Any chef would say...
If I showed you what I do,
You'd try it and raise the price.
And I just want to leave you with just a taste.
Knowing that when you've become addicted,
You will come back...
To stand in line to nibble anything I present.
I am not trying to give away my stuff.
Do you know how long it took me,
To get you to even be interested?
Mesmerizing is an ability,
That requires time to deliver.
I have to keep masqueraded,
Just to keep the critics cranky.
But...
At my disposal.
Me...
Be,
No fool.
Not in preparation.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Flight Status
I don't believe I know too many people,
Who have to be consistently warned...
To move out of harms way.
Or be convinced that death may threaten.
Those I know love life.
And any hint or clue Mother Nature gives,
That she 'may' show up in the neighbood...
Cranky!
With the huffing and puffing up dangerous winds?
That 'should' give anyone reason to prepare,
For flight status.
Those who have desires,
To confront Mother Nature's bad side...
Are either crazy,
Or...
There is no 'or'!
Those folks are nutts!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Does Not Matter
it does not matter who you are.
where you're from
or what you've done.
it does not matter, if you're
short and round, with a smile or a frown.
or if you're tall and lanky
and always cranky.
if you have the looks or body
everyone desires
or if you could even put out someones fire.
it does not matter, your disposition.
you should not be catorigized
in a position.
it does not matter, whether you're rich or poor
or if you're quick in the mind
or slow at times.
human nature and association
will always find devastation.
we're always taught that black is black
and white is white,
but! never shown who is right. (if anybody)
this decision lies in your heart
the choice you make- is your start.
so think it out before you criticize
for you also are on that line.
poem by Louis Rams
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But I Caught Nine
She slammed the door
I'd heard it before
Every month she is cranky
This is that time
She'll be back
After a cuppa with mum
A wonderful woman
The peacemaker
I'd been fishing
They were biting
So I stayed a bit longer
I guess too long
But Honey I caught nine
You said you'd be home at one
I planned things for us
Now you ruined it
Calm down Honey
The World didn't end
You wouldn't have noticed
Too busy fishing and drinking
When are you going to mow
That jungle out the front
I'm so sick of it
It's fishing or bloody footy
Off she went in a huff
I'd mowed that morning
So I gutted the fish
Watched footy on TV
poem by Phil Smith
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I Hear The Sound Of Time
Often at midnight I wake up,
I hear the sound of time.
It showers from eternity,
The Clock tells with its chime.
I find me in utter darkness,
As only waking man,
The cranky voice of a bird,
Reminds I have short span.
As a haunted person I brood,
Over the bygone days.
Is my life a story which ends,
Without its last pages?
From where we come, to where we go,
Unknown is that notion.
With the flow of time we will reach,
Perhaps a big Ocean.
But all my tasks are halfway done,
I must leave a good mark.
The night makes me to feel the truth,
The clock reminds, lo, hark! !
poem by Nilakshi Das
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We Bury Our Burdens
we carry a sack
full of everything
the trivial and not so trivial
to the others
which we sometimes
deem to be
important
we start cramping things
in a small pack
a pair of shoes, a plaque,
a bat, white polo shirt,
underwear, the certificates,
some poems even
a book about
romance with some
molds on the hard cover
where shall i bury all these things?
for i am moving to
another place
this morning
i wait for the high tide
or which comes first
the dusty early morning
on the road
this cranky motor vehicle
bound for the
dry mountain
where a hole is ready
tagging a shovel
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Threesome
It is nice to observe how two cranky old foes
join together to write a collage,
then decide whether rhyme or that modern day prose
may I mention the French word menage?
It can be any number of poets or duds
who collaborate using their skills
you will see the appearance of early spring buds
as the sun comes to visit the hills.
Let us grab the papyrus, the Metaxa as well
so a poem will rise from the earth
and before we are called to the Heavens or Hell
to a poem of beauty give birth.
A Menage - à - Trois, between H, L and G
ought to bring a new wind to these parts
either limerick or other, but authored by three
may produce a great work for the arts.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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False Lights, Termites, Stones
we are
to them
always
the image
of departure
and so it
seems to
be, as
always,
sadness that
they smell
on our skin
our hair
they imagine
bags and all
the stuff that
must be
there
they hear
the sound of
buses honking
and waiting
they like to
close the
doors of the
house
and see to
it that all
windows
are closed
what they always
see in us
is the look of
misery
of time wasted
of
dripping water
that
dries the moment
it meets
an arid
soil
i sigh to all
these
wrong notions
but i only
have silence
to offer
before their
altars
they are not gods
and i guess
tomorrow
early morning
i simply
have to destroy
them
these plasters of
Paris
these cranky
obsolete
stones
these false lights
termites and
pests of
my wooden world
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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