Other men wear white suits in summer and it doesn't seem to bother them. But my white suit seems to be a little whiter than theirs. I think also that it may have something written on the back of it, although I can't find it when I take the suit off.
quote by Robert Benchley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Now I'm way into suits that I can put on whether I took a shower or not, and wear barefoot and paint my toes black or whatever color the suit is. It's very cool to wear suits like that. Roll up the sleeves and just say yee-haw.
quote by Steven Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can't Dance To Disco
I can't dress so I can't dance to disco
I can't move and I hate the way my feet go
I can't dress but she thinks I'm on the clothes show
Why can't she see?
It's so sad, she always sees the good side
Life sucks when you're lying on the inside
She's so sweet she covers me with honey
Why can't she see?
Disco!
I can't dance to disco
Disco!
White suits and gigolos
I'm a whore, paranoid and schizo
Hit the floor, chewing on the lino
I'm a mess, throw me like a yo-yo
Why can't you see?
Disco!
I can't dance to disco
Disco!
White suits and gigolos
Disco!
I can't dance to disco
Disco!
White suit and gigolos
Oh I hate those disco kings
Silk shirts and signet rings
Oh I hate those greasy kings
Cuban heels and rubber skins
Disco!
I can't dance to disco
Disco!
White suits and gigolos
Disco!
I can't dance to disco
Disco!
White suits and gigolos
Disco!
I can't dance to disco!
Disco!
I can't live for disco!
Disco!
I can't dance to disco!
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Day You Dissolve Into Whiteness...
a white car waits for you
at the white side of the road
you are in your white suit
white socks and white shoes
you are white yourself
pale lips and snowy face
dusty eyes, clear tears
falling down to your cheeks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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School's Out
Well we got no choice
All the girls and boys
Makin all that noise
Cause they found new toys
Well we can't salute ya
Can't find a flag
If that don't suit ya
[Cooper:]
That's a drag
School's out for the summer
School's out forever
I'm bored to pieces
Well we got no class
And we got no principals
And we got no intelligence
We can't even think of a word that rhymes
[Cooper:]
Well we can't salute ya
Can't find a flag
If that don't suit ya
That's a drag
[CHORUS]
No more pencils
No more books
No more teacher's
Dirty looks
Out for summer
Out till fall
We might not come
Back at all
School's out for summer (detention!)
School's out forever
School's out with fever
School's out completely
School's out for summer
song performed by by A-Teens from Pop 'Til You Drop!
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovely White Flowers
He went inside the cafe where they used to sit together.
It was here, three months ago, that his friend told him:
'We're completely broke -so hard up, the two of us,
that we're stuck with the cheapest places.
I can't go around with you any more -it's no use hiding the fact.
I've got to tell you, somebody else is after me.'
The 'somebody else' had promised him two suits, some silk handkerchiefs.
He himself, to get his friend back,
went through hell rounding up twenty pounds.
His friend came back to him for the twenty pounds-
but along with that, for their old intimacy,
their old love, for the deep feeling between them.
The 'somebody else' was a liar, a real bum:
he'd ordered only one suit for his friend,
and that under pressure, after much begging.
But now he doesn't want the suits any longer,
he doesn't want the silk handkerchiefs at all,
or twenty pounds, or twenty piastres even.
Sunday they buried him, at ten in the morning.
Sunday they buried him, almost a week ago.
He laid flowers on his cheap coffin,
lovely white flowers, very much in keeping
with his beauty, his twenty-two years.
When he went to the cafe that evening
he happened to have some vital business there
to that same cafe where they used to go together,
it was a knife in his heart,
that dead cafe where they used to go together.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Objection is when I say: this doesn't suit me. Resistance is when I make sure that what doesn't suit me never happens again.
quote by Ulrike Meinhof
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Rose o' June
Air - 'Voice of Spring.'
Now the bricht sun, and the soft simmer showers,
Deck a' the woods and the gardens wi' flowers;
But bonny and sweet though the hale o' them be,
There's ane aboon a' that is dearest to me;
An' oh, that's the white rose, the white rose o' June,
An' may
he
that should wear it come back again sune!
It's no on my breast, nor yet in my hair,
That emblem dear I venture to wear;
But it blooms in my heart, and its white leaves I weet,
When alane in the gloamin' I wander to greet,
O'er the white rose, the white rose, the white rose o' June,
An' may
he
that should wear it come back again sune!
Mair fragrant and rich the red rose may be,
But there is nae spell to bind it to me;
But dear to my heart and to fond memorie,
Tho' scathed and tho' blighted the white rose may be.
O the white rose, the white rose, the white rose o' June,
O may
he
that should wear it come back again sune!
An' oh! may the true hearts thy perils who share,
Remember'd wi' tears, and remember'd in prayer,
Whom misfortune's rude blast has sent far awa',
Fair breezes bring back sune to cottage and ha';-
Then, O sing the white rose, the white rose o' June,
An' may
he
that should wear it wear Scotland's auld croun!
poem by Carolina Oliphant
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Come To Think Of Them
beggars wearing
white robes
and large diamond
ring in their
middle fingers
by the authority
of God
they live all
in luxury
tax free
robbers wearing
fine, expensive suits
accorded accolades
and reaping honors
from plain
juan de la cruz
invoking the authority
of your state
holy and honorable
in their respective
thrones all built
by the bricks and
limestones of
our ignorance and
gullibility
we are the people
and we are the kings
and yet we look so
miserable living
miserable in poverty
in sickness in death
we sew the white robe
and the fine suit and
let them wear them
as we take and thrive
on tattered clothes
and listen to our rattling bones
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shades of Grey
Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare
White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed
Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo
Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Three Button Hand Me Down
(rod stewart, ian mclagen)
I dont need no ones opinion
On the matter concerning my dress.
I was raised in a clinic down in oklahoma,
There were many things I did not possess.
Well I never complained, because my father said,
Son you get your chance before youre my age.
Then he took me upstairs and gave me this suit
(? ) written all over his face
He said, others may come and others may go,
But that suit will be around wherever youre goin
Three button hand me down
Three button hand me down
Hold on a minute
Now I had my fair share of neat women,
But they came between me and my suit.
That was a filly from boston, a barmaid from houston,
Not forgetting the one in detroit.
They said, we like you boy and we think youre sweet,
But cant you lose your suit?
I said, nononono, you cant do that to me
I remember what my father said:
He said, others may come and others may go,
But that suit will be around wherever youre goin
Three button hand me down, ha ha,
Three button hand me down
Ive never been a tidy dresser
And the fold in my trousers it aint straight.
Still I know a good cloth when I see one.
Thats why Im clad in this gray flannel suit.
Sometimes I wonder if I should visit a tailor
And get myself a smooth outfit.
Then I remember what my father said to me.
I make it from the open road, you all know this
He said, others may come and others may go,
But that suit will be around wherever you go
Three button hand me down,
Three button hand me down, ha ha
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Surprise in Japan - New Suit
bad laundry work
the fashion store gives me
a new suit
Quite a surprise. The laundrette I sent the suit to for dry cleaning did a bad job. The suit became like a three year old piece of junk. I showed it to the fashion store in Kinshicho where I bought and strangely the manager gave me a new suit.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Suit
The Suit
After the surgery my son come visiting
he had brought a dark suit along, hung
it in my wardrobe, said he had brought
it along in case we went to a party.
A fortnight later he flew back home but
left the suit behind so he didn’t have
to bring one next time he came visiting.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Election Farce
The election farce is on again.
The choice is usually between two men.
Two men that are the same you see.
Two men that always seem to be
polished gents with suit and tie
but underneath the suit does lie
the readers of teleprompting cues
conveying their master's point of views.
The election farce is just a race
between two different suits with just one face.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Wedding dress
The wedding dress had a royal elegance,
it beamed next to the morning suit,
shone with pride in the afternoon sun,
while the morning suit felt unsteady,
a little light headed and dizzy
at the sight of this magnificent robe.
Other suits and dresses
were dumb struck too, in its presence.
The little black number sulked,
the lounge suit sniggered
but the wedding dress just flowed across the room.
The shrug, of course, took the whole thing casually
as shrugs are prone to do, all nonchalant,
and je ne sais quoi,
as were the bride and groom.
poem by Ruth Walters
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He asked why and I said, 'Because Gwyneth has a fat suit, my wife has a fat suit - I don't get a fat suit?' He looked at me and said, 'You mean you don't have one on?'
quote by Joe Viterelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sartorial
Sartorial
Tried on a striped
Blue suit
It made me look like
A fat zebra
Asked the shop girl
If they had a mirror
One that could transform me
Into my conceited
Self image
She said sorry, but no
Bought a bigger suit
Pearly black hides the fat
Off the rack,
Just like that
White turtle neck jumper
A Mercedes icon
Around my neck
God! I look a stylish man.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Avalanche-the White Death
The land is white
The name of the land brings you
to the land of nothing
The name is white
The white is dead
Sun shines pale, the land shades full of pain
Avalea doesn't bloom and fall in this drain
I'm going back alive again
But no one's crying for the dead
The land is still white
Ice and snow are still the same as yesterday
But the wind is stronger in the sorrow
The land is white
The white is dead
They weep wherever they blow
Forever love, cursed land
Forever goodbye, my lovely land
No more tears falling in this land
Even the sand doesn't know
why he doesn't round to anywhere
The land has frozen like stone
The air is blowed dead
The land is white
The name is white
The land called white is dead
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Some Prefer What's On The Surface
It's in the meaning that comes,
That may not suit everyone...
With a getting to be done and quick.
It's in the meaning that comes,
That may not suit everyone...
With a getting to be done,
Before they run.
Some prefer what's on the surface,
And not below it to pick.
Some prefer what's on the surface,
With no thought attached to it.
Some prefer what's on the surface,
Since it's easier to get.
Without a picking up to leave to then split.
It's in the meaning that comes,
That may not suit everyone...
With a getting to be done and quick.
It's in the meaning that comes,
That may not suit everyone...
To pick up,
To leave to then split.
And many will prefer it to sit.
With...
A caring less of meaning in it.
Or...
Discovering themselves,
A meaninglessness.
No one wishes to discover,
A meaning exists.
Or bother to uncover,
A meaninglessness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Suit Of Wolves
Looking back in anger
On this dirty little town
It stained your dress carved up my face
Put a wedge between our state of grace
Somethings so young and pretty
Should never be released
We place our bets we take our pick
They wind up in the belly of the beast
And when you can't get what you want
You take anything you can
So I wear this suit of wolves at night
I slip it on how come it feels so right
I get a hungry man
When I can't get what I want
I take anything I can
I wear a suit of wolves
Just across from Friday
The weekend circus rolls
I cross my heart turn on the charm
I say my prayers between two hungry arms
There's a string of dangerous flowers
All around my bed
There's some want rings and some just want
And those who'd like to see me dead
song performed by by Elton John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wile Watching the Black and White TV
Your old man
came into the lounge
where you were watching
black and white TV
and your mother was standing
talking to an uncle
it's the baker
your old man said
he wants his £50
what £50?
your mother asked
the £50 I owe him
well pay him
your mother said
I can't
I don't have it
you watched
the cowboy film
with half interest
you took a glance
at the debtor
well tell him
you'll pay him
next week
your mother said
I told him that
last week
your old man said
what did you want
to borrow £50
from the baker for?
your mother asked
her cheeks getting flushed
to buy my new suit
what new suit?
the one I'm having made
you noticed
your old man's
moustache flicker
and he stroked it
as he did
when cornered
your mother
breathed heavy
and you looked
at the uncle
ok
the uncle said
here's the £50
go pay him
what you owe
to get him off your back
but you better pay me back
or I'll bust your head
sure I will
your old man said
going out of the room
clutching the money
in his palm
your mother sighed
and the uncle
put away his wallet
into an inside pocket
and you saw that one
of the cowboys
on the black and white
TV screen
had been shot
and died
the other looked angry
and ugly
and mean.
poem by Terry Collett
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