Often, city fathers blamed prostitutes for the disease, and some threatened to brand their cheeks with hot iron if they did not desist from their vices.
quote by Peter Lewis Allen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ears Are Closed
There is one basic problem that sits between them.
They all have been conditioned to believe,
Each one of them were born to lead.
And no one perceives a listening should be done.
Where the foundation,
Of true leadership begins for anyone.
That is why what's going on can not be fixed.
Those involve desire to captain their own ship.
And ears are clearly plugged to be closed
While those of flapping lips persist...
The resolving of their started problems,
Should lay on someone's shoulders.
But not on theirs to take the risk.
'You should be blamed for this! '
No.
You should be blamed for this!
'No.
You should be blamed for this! '
No.
You should be blamed for this!
*EVERYONE SING:
You should be blamed for this,
No.
You should be blamed for this,
No.
You should be,
You should be...
You should be blamed for this!
You should be blamed for this,
No.
You should be blamed for this,
No.
You should be,
You should be...
You should be blamed for this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All women who kill or have sexual obsessions or who are prostitutes have trouble with their fathers.
quote by Catherine Deneuve
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Brand New Game
Saw you talk near the slots
And I got a brand new game
Running down the alley with an hour you bought
From a man with no last name
Like an idiot animal
Too stupid to shame
Got a brand new game
Got a brand new, brand new game
Got a brand new game
Got a brand new game
Ape man in a cave
Painting on the wall
Nothings gonna keep the visions menacing glances
And nothing thats got it all
From gazing over to where hope sleeps
Artificially small
Like a beast to tame
Got a brand new game
Got a brand new, brand new game
Got a brand new game
Got a brand new game
Now monkey is alright?
Come on
Ones never enough, twos always a crowd
I got a mindful scoping the slide?
And a glass side nature mane?
Everythings impossible
Theres nothing to do
But oppose this road remain?
Push the point to oblivion
And keep turning the plane
Got a brand new game
Got a brand new, brand new game
Got a brand new game
Got a brand new game
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Fathers Eyes
(by eric clapton)
Sailing down behind the sun,
Waiting for my prince to come.
Praying for the healing rain
To restore my soul again.
Just a toerag on the run.
How did I get here?
What have I done?
When will all my hopes arise?
How will I know him?
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the light begins to shine
And I hear those ancient lullabies.
And as I watch this seedling grow,
Feel my heart start to overflow.
Where do I find the words to say?
How do I teach him?
What do we play?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
Thats when I need them,
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the jagged edge appears
Through the distant clouds of tears.
Im like a bridge that was washed away;
My foundations were made of clay.
As my soul slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No company is preferable to bad, because we are more apt to catch the vices of others than their virtues, as disease is far more contagious than health.
quote by Charles Caleb Colton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No company is preferable to bad. We are more apt to catch the vices of others than virtues, as disease is far more contagious than health.
quote by Charles Caleb Colton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Promises Unkept for friend Chad
The back streets of the city hide
a multitude of untold tales
The mean streets where the stench abides
of rancid dreams left to decay.
Far different from the countryside
the green hills and the pleasant vales.
Where simple country folk reside.
Fresh dreams emerging every day.
The city street may well decide
which man succeeds and which man fails.
The ebbing flowing surging tides
of little men who have no say.
The city fathers try to hide
(but their efforts are bound to fail.)
the city’s seamy underside.
Where petty criminals hold sway.
Some folks escape by suicide
and others fill the city’s jail.
There’s poverty on every side.
It seems the problems here to stay.
Here ideologies collide
But more is said than’s ever done.
The city has no cause for pride.
We’ve little choice but wait and pray.
The city fathers say they’ve tried
but I beg leave to doubt their word.
I’m totally unsatisfied
There’s jam tomorrow none today.
17/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rags & Old Iron
Norman curtis, oscar brown jr
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
I heard that old rag man now making his rounds
He came right to my alley lord with sorrowful sounds
Crying rags old iron and pulling his cart
Ask him how much hed give me for my broken heart
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
So I asked that old rag man how much he would pay
For a heart that was broken baby when you went away
For a burnt out old love light that no longer beams
And a couple of slightly used second hand dreams
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
For those big empty promises you used to make
For those memories of you that are no longer sweet
I wish he could haul them off down the street
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
When love doesnt last tell me what is it worth
It was once mamas most precious possession on earth
When I asked that old rag man if hed like to buy
He just shook his head and continued to cry
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron rags old iron
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tale of Three Cities
New York blasted London blasted
Singapore -
Ripped off each other's metaphoric balls,
Crumbling walls.
Priapic city monoliths -
Blue-sky scraping bastards -
Shout about their height (but really length) .
V8 arseholes didn't care -
Pumping shit into the air,
So long as they were always there to
Fart aloud a smoggy cloud,
Laughing at the weak asthmatic,
Humoured that it seems traumatic.
Watch the greedy cities oozing
Chair-bound fat committees, though they
Look a bunch of titties as they
Waffle on about the pound.
Ever thought to look around and see
That they were dead?
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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City Of Ships
CITY of ships!
(O the black ships! O the fierce ships!
O the beautiful, sharp-bow'd steam-ships and sail-ships!)
City of the world! (for all races are here;
All the lands of the earth make contributions here;)
City of the sea! city of hurried and glittering tides!
City whose gleeful tides continually rush or recede, whirling in and
out, with eddies and foam!
City of wharves and stores! city of tall façades of marble and iron!
Proud and passionate city! mettlesome, mad, extravagant city!
Spring up, O city! not for peace alone, but be indeed yourself,
warlike! 10
Fear not! submit to no models but your own, O city!
Behold me! incarnate me, as I have incarnated you!
I have rejected nothing you offer'd me--whom you adopted, I have
adopted;
Good or bad, I never question you--I love all--I do not condemn
anything;
I chant and celebrate all that is yours--yet peace no more;
In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum of war is mine;
War, red war, is my song through your streets, O city!
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Blamed Them Once
I blamed him once,
My father who brought me here
Without the strength
To take me there
I blamed them once
My brothers who developed wings
And flew so high, leaving me behind.
I blamed them once
People of the world, who once or twice
Made me feel like I'm not wanted.
But I do not blame them anymore,
I have to make wings of my own and fly.
So let them go,
I will travel gently, carefully
And one day I too will arrive.
poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fathers Eyes
I may not be every mothers dream for her little girl,
And my face may not grace the mind of everyone in the world.
But thats all right, as long as I can have one wish I pray:
When people look inside my life, I want to hear them say,
Shes got her fathers eyes,
Her fathers eyes;
Eyes that find the good in things,
When good is not around;
Eyes that find the source of help,
When help just cant be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what youre going through
And feeling it the same.
Just like my fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
And on that day when we will pay for all the deeds we have done,
Good and bad theyll all be had to see by everyone.
And when youre called to stand and tell just what you saw in me,
More than anything I know, I want your words to be,
She had her fathers eyes,
Her fathers eyes;
Eyes that found the good in things,
When good was not around;
Eyes that found the source of help,
When help would not be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what youre going through,
And feeling it the same.
Just like my fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We make a ladder for ourselves of our vices, if we trample those same vices underfoot.
quote by Saint Aurelius Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon the Silent Woman
Hear, you bad writers, and though you not see,
I will inform you where you happy be:
Provide the most malicious thoughts you can,
And bend them all against some private man,
To bring him, not his vices, on the stage;
Your envy shall be clad in some poor rage,
And your expressing of him shall be such,
That he himself shall think he hath no touch.
Where he that strongly writes, although he mean
To scourge but vices in a laboured scene,
Yet private faults shall be so well express'd
As men do get 'em, that each private breast,
That finds these errors in itself, shall say,
'He meant me, not my vices, in the play.'
poem by Francis Beaumont
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We make ourselves a ladder out of our vices if we trample the vices themselves underfoot.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disease Of Conceit
Theres a whole lot of people suffering tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people struggling tonight with the disease of conceit
Comes right down the highway, straight down the line
Rips into your senses, through your body and your mind
Nothing about it thats sweet
The disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of hearts breaking tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of hearts shaking tonight from the disease of conceit
Steps into your room, eats into your soul
Over your senses you have no control
Aint nothing too discreet
About the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people dying tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people crying tonight from the disease of conceit
Comes right outta nowhere and youre down for the count
From the outside world the pressure will mount
Turn you into a piece of meat
The disease of conceit
Conceit is a disease but the doctors got no cure
They done a lot of research on it but what it is theyre still not sure
Theres a whole lot of people in trouble tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people seein double tonight from the disease of conceit
If your delusions of grandeur and an evil eye
Give you the idea that youre too good to die
Then they bury you from your head to your feet
From the disease of conceit
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Elephant's Graveyard
Beautification of the city
Brand new image, what a pity
The outward appearance is in bloom
The inner city in dread and doom
As long as the beauty is doing it’s duty
Business as usual
Our city streets, a mausoleum
Blood re linoleum
The red carpet receiving stolen life forces
Essence of our communities
Betrayal, thirty pieces of silver
They spared no expense
Beautification of the city
Brand new image, what a pity
Charles was shot twice in the head
A stolen soul, precious flower, lay dead
If the truth be told, a form of population control
Busy buying businesses
Families and love ones
Receiving mutilated bodies and buying caskets
Poverty pimps prostituting urban renewal
The jewel in the crown
Beautification, wonderful façade
Everything’s all right, a promenade
The only safe place, the hand of God
Gorgeous flowers planted for economical gain
Ornamental signs do not reflect the pain
Elaborate parks, attractive museums hide the blood stains
The blood-stained metropolitan sepulcher
Beautification of the city
Brand new image, what a pity
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brand New Morning
It's a brand new morning of a brand new day.
It's a brand new chance to make it all work out some way.
Hey! It's a brand new morning and a brand new smile.
It's some brand new things you just might see in a while;
Then your life takes on a bright new shiny style.
Forget the past now, it's an ancient history.
It's a time to be reborn, it's a time for being free.
Someone might be waiting here outside where you can see-
And you just might see -
Yeah, you just might see -
That it's a brand new morning with a brand new sun,
And it's just as warm for you as it is for everyone.
Don't just walk, come on, get it on, get on the run.
It's a brand new morning, ooh, it's a brand new day.
Forget the past now, it's an ancient history.
It's a time to be reborn, it's a time for being free.
Someone might be waiting here outside where you can see -
And you just might see -
Yeah, you just might see -
That it's a brand new morning with a brand new sun,
And it's just as warm for you as it is for everyone.
Don't just walk, come on, get it on, get on the run.
It's a brand new morning, ooh, it's a brand new day.
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Win the Disease
Disease
Are called...
New new...
Name for today...
Disease...
All are come
Comenley same...
For nasty water...
For colour full drinks...
For fasted food...
Cross sex...
Bad habiets...
With out execise...
That is...
Todays for disease...
Name is new...
All disease are old...
Change your steps
On...
Food...
Drinks...
Habits. ..
Normal sex...
win the disease...
With your life...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr. Mine
Notice how he has numbered the blue veins
in my breast. Moreover there are ten freckles.
Now he goes left. Now he goes right.
He is building a city, a city of flesh.
He's an industrialist. He has starved in cellars
and, ladies and gentlemen, he's been broken by iron,
by the blood, by the metal, by the triumphant
iron of his mother's death. But he begins again.
Now he constructs me. He is consumed by the city.
>From the glory of words he has built me up.
>From the wonder of concrete he has molded me.
He has given me six hundred street signs.
The time I was dancing he built a museum.
He built ten blocks when I moved on the bed.
He constructed an overpass when I left.
I gave him flowers and he built an airport.
For traffic lights he handed at red and green
lollipops. Yet in my heart I am go children slow.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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