Keep writing, because not only does practice improve skill, it gives you more chances to score on the market. I did that for eight years before making my first sale.
quote by Piers Anthony
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
They're Red Hot
(Robert Johnson)
Hot tamales1 and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
I got a girl, say she long and tall
She sleeps in the kitchen with her feets in the hall
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale, I mean
Yes, she got'em for sale, yeah
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
She got two for a nickel, got four for a dime
Would sell you more, but they ain't none of mine
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale, I mean
Yes, she got'em for sale, yes, yeah
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
I got a letter from a girl in the room
Now she got something good she got to bring home soon, now
Its hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got em for sale, I mean
Yes, she got'em for sale, yeah
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got em for sale
[Spoken:] They're too hot boy!
The billy got back in a bumble bee nest
Ever since that he can't take his rest, yeah
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes you got'em for sale, I mean
Yes, she got'em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
[Spoken:]
Man don't mess around em hot tamales now
'Cause they too black bad, if you mess around em hot tamales
I'm gonna upset your backbone, put your kidneys to sleep
I'll due to break away your liver and dare your heart to beat bout my
Hot tamales cause they red hot, yes they got
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing ought either to be the manufacture of stories for which there is a market demand -- a business as safe and commendable as making soap or breakfast foods -- or it should be an art, which is always a search for something for which there is no market demand, something new and untried, where the values are intrinsic and have nothing to do with standardized values.
quote by Willa Sibert Cather
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Practice Every Step
Practice every step.
Do not second guess what it takes.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
There's no sleeping for someone who has a place to go,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Focus on that goal,
And tighten on your hold,
And...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Do not second guess what it takes.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Every journey taken,
Must be thought of as a race...
And,
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
There's no other way to straighten out a crooked road,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
No matter what you're told,
There will be some doubts and woes...
But you,
Practice every step.
Yes you,
Practice every step.
Woes you hold will eventually go,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Got Love For Sale
Your conditions red, you cant get to bed
Your eyes are full of tears
Youve got headache, heartache, a pain you cant take
I am who you have to fear
Your observations correct
Im someone you cant neglect
Whoo no, whoo no, whoo no, whoo no, whoo no, whoo no
Have love, will travel (Ive got love for sale)
Have love, will travel (Ive got love for sale)
Have love, will travel (Ive got love for sale)
You buy the magazine, in between the lines
You see my face, you read my name
And you can have me for one price, baby
You must have heard of my fee
You know you need me, I know you want me
cause Im a living cross your heart man
Youve got to have me, cant live without me
cause Im the one and only yes I am
Ive got love for sale
And my love will not fail you
Whoo no, whoo no, whoo no, whoo no, whoo no oh, whoo no, whoo no
Have love, will travel (Ive got love for sale)
Have love, will travel (Ive got love for sale)
Have love, will travel (Ive got love for sale), yeah
Ive got love for sale
And my love will not fail you
Whoo no, whoo no, whoo no, whoo no, whoo no, whoo no, whoo no
Have love, will travel (Ive got love for sale)
Have love, will travel (Ive got love for sale)
Have love, will travel (Ive got love for sale), yeah
I got love for sale
I got love for sale
I got love for sale
I got love for sale
I got love for sale
I got love for sale
I got love for sale
I got love for sale
I got love for sale
I got love for sale, yeah
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Market Of Ideas...
in the market there are good apples,
luscious ones and we buy them and we do not regret
the money that we part with,
there are rotten ones, who buys them must be fools
ditto with our creations,
we think what we make are the best
in the market of ideas
we rely on the proof of the goodness when others begin to buy
what we display
we think they are best
but look at the flies, look at the the emptiness of the market place
smell the stink,
then we decide not to display at all
we keep what we make as our own
after all, it is ours, and we protect them in our homes
not for sale
but for domestic consumption
we do not wish to compete
we are home now and then we are happier this way.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hows Chances?
When I want to see the boys
I know where to find the boys
I dont go through a club or two
I just find you and there are the boys
To get you alone I strive
You ask me to tea at five
I find you then with other men
And wonder when my chance will arrive
Hows chances, say, how are the chances
Of making you love me the way I love you
How many young men must I fight with
To be in right with
In right with you
Hows chances for one of those glances
A glimpse of the heaven Im longing to see
Hows chances to end all your romances
And start taking your chances with me
[alternate bridge:]
My castle will need some restoring
Ceiling and flooring
Furniture, too
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hows Chances?
When I want to see the boys
I know where to find the boys
I dont go through a club or two
I just find you and there are the boys
To get you alone I strive
You ask me to tea at five
I find you then with other men
And wonder when my chance will arrive
Hows chances, say, how are the chances
Of making you love me the way I love you
How many young men must I fight with
To be in right with
In right with you
Hows chances for one of those glances
A glimpse of the heaven Im longing to see
Hows chances to end all your romances
And start taking your chances with me
[alternate bridge:]
My castle will need some restoring
Ceiling and flooring
Furniture, too
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sale For Love
Love is
Sale for
Today...
With film...
Love is
Simply
Sale for
Today...
With T.V. film....
Love is
Sale for
Today...
With
Group sex...
Love is
Sale for
Today...
With
Story books...
Love is
Sale for
Today...
With
Poems and
Store yes...
Love is
Sale for
Today
With
Temple
Lovingely
For money...?
Sale for
Love
With love....? !
All ways
Simply sale
For love
Also sale?
For...
With
Today busy
And busness
World....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smart businesses do not look at labor costs alone anymore. They do look at market access, transportation, telecommunications infrastructure and the education and skill level of the workforce, the development of capital and the regulatory market.
quote by Janet Napolitano
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love For Sale
Love for sale
Advertising young love for sale
Love thats fresh and still unspoiled
Love thats only slightly soiled
Love for sale
Love for sale
Lots and lots of young love for sale
Now if I youd like to try my way
Follow me and climb the stairs
Love for sale
Like the poets type of love in their childish way
I know every kind of love better far than they
If you want to trail of love
Ive been through the mill of love
Old love, new love, every love but true love
Love for sale
Advertising young love for sale
Love thats fresh and still unspoiled
Love thats only slightly soiled
Love for sale
Who would buy?
Who would like to sample my surprise?
Love for sale
... (longer instrumental part)
Love for sale
Advertising young love for sale
Love for sale
Advertising crazy love for sale
Now if I youd like to try my way
Follow me and climb the stairs
Love for sale
Love for sale (sweet love)
Love for sale (lots and lots of young love)
Love for sale
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Children For Sale
'children for sale,
...children for sale, '
the street vendor cries...
'we've got all kinds...
...black and white, brown
....and red...
..boys and girls, take your choice!
...spin the wheel, take a chance! '
who chooses what opportunities,
what chances, what quality of life?
how much education?
what kind of family life?
a degree, a job, a future?
or work with the hands, skilled labor?
or menial work, no work at all....
a life of crime, taught by the prisons?
hope, or starvation?
free, or oppressed?
loved, or hated?
finding a place, following a dream...
or cast to the side?
who chooses?
and why should anyone choose?
'children for sale,
...children for sale...'
the street vendor cries!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love For Sale
Cole porter
Love for sale.
Appetizing, young love for sale.
Love thats fresh and still unspoiled. love thats only slighty soiled.
Love for sale.
Who will buy?
Who will like to sample my supply?
Whos prepared to pay the price for a trip to paradise?
Love for sale.
Let the poets pipe of love in their childish way.
I know every type of love better far than they.
If you want the thrill of love Ive been through the midl of love.
Old love. new love. every love, but true love.
Love for sale.
Appetizing young love for sale.
If you want to buy my wares, follow me and climb the stairs.
Love for sale.
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Arrogance of a Poet
Reading, reading, reading aloud,
Out to an audience or a large crowd,
A lovely poem, simple like this,
Rhyming couplets, O what a bliss,
Next a succulent simile,
Like this, like that or just like me.
Alliteration, simile all in one,
The Sun looked down, thinking well done!
Woah, personification, the touch of skill
But ofcourse, I can still
Go further and further with these thoughts,
Enjambment used, eat my shorts!
My skill unmatched, the audience applaud,
Score,10/10, definitely assured.
But still this skill was not enough,
They believed my poem was still a rough
Copy or a draft, not the final one,
A poem to impress, that could have won.
And so I wander back, like a whale
To feed my young poems a treacherous tale,
To which they will, rebel and fight
For why did that poem not set alight
The crowd with all its great talent,
But I will not, never, relent
In making you poems walk into fame,
And there goes my poetic technique again...
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Farewell Blythe Spirit
This poem is dedicated to James Clarke, South Africa's funniest columnist on his semi-retirement from The Star with my gratitude for allowing me to contribute so much of my nonsense verse to his Stoep Talk column for so many years. The practice of writing Mary Mary verses and parodies and all sorts of 'pomes' as he calls them was invaluable.
I'm devastated - quite deflated
To know you are retiring
(I'd call you cool and not x-rated
but no, not quite retiring!)
What will I do, my heart screams out
With all my bits of writing?
The mini-comps, the tests of skill
That set my wits a-fighting.
I've got to know you pretty well
Sometimes I've even bitten
Your leg pulls and your jammy jibes
Ho! What I've almost written!
Important comps I've entered
Qwerty soup, perhaps a pun
And how to welcome tourists
Saying 'Voetsak' watch 'em run!
Of Shakespeare, dare I say it
I hardly knew a jot
Till in a comp I learned his wife
Was Anne and not Shalott.
A one-word sentence - pshew! he's mad!
The challenge was too great
I M N MK... R U 1 2?
And Mary's lamb got ate.
But no, M.K. don't flippant be
This is a serious occasion
For sure you'll make the Beckett Show
On the state of the writing nation.
I know I speak for all who read
The Stoep - Oh how we'll miss ya
And now it has to come to me
What rhymes with Madagascya!
poem by Margaret Kollmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Listening to every Tom, Dick and Donkey
Come, we have a story, said the Old Man. Come, sit and I shall tell you all a little tale of a donkey, a boy and his father…and of strangers too…and many a busybody…
And the children sat round the campfire and the Old Man began his tale…
One day
(and this is many, many
uncountable days ago)
Father called Son
and he said:
‘Son
you are grown now
into a fine young lad
and you must learn
how to buy and sell
and make a profit
‘So, come let us go
you and I
to the market to see
what silver coins we can get
for this old donkey
in our shed’
2
And so Son and Dad
set out for the town market
across the sandy and rocky miles
and some way off
Dad grew tired and he said:
‘Ah, Son
this walk tires me and so
I shall ride the donkey
while you walk by the side;
so, come let us go
you and I
to the market to see
what silver coins we can get
for this old donkey
that I shall ride’
3
‘Ho, ho!
What do we have here? ’
came a voice
as the Dad sat riding the donkey
while the Son walked by the side
‘A cruel father you are, ’
said the Family Standards Officer
‘Get down, you grown man
and let the child ride! ’
And the Father was ashamed
and so he let the Son ride the donkey
and he walked beside
And the Family Standards Officer
was extremely pleased
and he filled up his forms
and he bade the Father and Son safe journey:
‘Ah, this is another
success story
of the Family Welfare Dept
where conscience has won the day
and the Son rides the donkey
and the Father walks beside’
4
A nd the Father and Son are gone but a mile, a mile - when another interruption came their way, heading straight their way….
‘What do we have here? ’
came a scream
and the Mandarin of the
State Morals Education
stopped the trio
and the Mandarin glared disapprovingly
at the boy riding the donkey and he said:
‘Where is your filial piety?
Know you not the son must do his duty
by the father?
Get off the donkey -
you young donkey!
and allow your father to ride
while you walk with reverence
and duty beside! ’
And so now we have the
Father on the donkey
and the Son walking beside
all three slowly on and on
Father and son
to the market to see
what silver coins
they might get
for this old donkey
that they have taken turns to ride
5
Then comes an old woman
and she mutters to herself as she passes by:
‘Ah, what’s come of life
that a father should ride and
allow the young to walk.’
And so the Father bids his Son
be a pillion rider with him on the donkey
and so they ride
merrily, merrily
on to the market
to see
what silver coins they can get
for this old donkey
that they both ride
5
But no sooner have they covered
but a mile, just a mile
with the respectable Father
and the filial Son
(both on the hapless donkey)
when a voice thunders out from the bush
and the Animal Rights Activist stands out
and he screams:
‘Oh, you cruel people
that you should ride a helpless donkey!
Shame on you!
Much better that you both
carried the creature! ’
And of course
the Son and Father
so reasonable and
always with an open mind
they jump off the donkey
and they carry
the donkey all the way
all the way
just four more miles
just four more miles
and they soon come into the market
carrying the donkey
and shouting:
‘Donkey for sale!
Donkey for sale! ’
6
And the buyers
at the markets
they see
this Father and Son
carrying the donkey
and screaming:
‘Donkey f or sale!
Donkey for sale! ’
And the buyers they say:
‘But it appears, Sirs,
there are
three donkeys for sale
three donkeys for sale!
In declaring
“Donkey for Sale! ”
when there are clearly three
are you offering three
for the price of one? ’
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love For Sale (extended Mix)
I was born in a house with the television always on
Guess I grew up too fast
And I forgot my name
We're in cities at night and we got time on our hands.
So leave the driving to us.
And it's the real thing.
And you're rolling
In the blender
With me.
And I can love you
Like a color
TV.
Now love is here
C'mon and try it
I got love for sale
Got love for sale
And now love is here
C'mon and try it
Got love for sale,
Got love for sale.
You can put your lipstick all over my designer jeans.
I'll be a video for you.
If you turn my dial.
You can cash my check if you go down to the bank
You get two for one
For a limited time.
Push my button...
The toast pops up
Love and money
Gettin' all
Mixed up
And now love is here
C'mon and try it.
I got love for sale
Got love for sale
Love is here
C'mon and try it
I got love for sale
I got Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fallen In Love
HOW should I go about it?
cos I think I'll try it out
I think I'll test my luckk
try my numbers, don't give a fu
If it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen
it just wasn't meant to be
it's not like i'm not used to it
it always happens to me
Not confident in my chances
never won this game before
scant of skill from my past romances
now I've found someone worth fighting for
your green eyes are my blue skies
and the reason I'm writing again
can imagine how my heart must seem so loud
as you stand above all other men
poem by D.M.L. Catseye
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Until My Dying Day
Now I know your secret
I promise that Ill keep it
So confidentially
Between just you and me, Ill never leak it
Im the specialist
I know you cant resist
Ill bypass your alarm
No need to twist my arm, I insist
If youre looking for a war
Theres a market for betrayal
Dont ask me what I saw
Yknow my secrets not for sale
Dont ask me what I heard
Yknow I promised not to say
I said Id never breathe a word
Until my dying day
Well seeing is believing
No use in your deceiving
For now I know its true
Its you that holds the clue, Ill be leaving
Now Ive got to say goodbye
You understand I have to fly
When you get the third degree
And the truth dont set you free, youve got to lie
If youre looking for a war
Theres a market for betrayal
Dont ask me what I saw
Yknow my secrets not for sale
Dont ask me what I heard
Yknow I promised not to say
I said Id never breathe a word
Until my dying day
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Second Chance
Sometimes you never get a second chance
at anything you do.
If one day you do, embrace it
and never let it slip through your fingers
or it will never come to you again.
Now this is my story of the two second chances that I got
and how I embraced them without regret.
The story begins half a century ago when I was a teenager.
I was a very shy boy
and my friends were very few,
especially where the girls were concerned.
No friendships grew there
and all too soon they were gone
without me ever saying a word to them
as I left and set sail for a far distant shore.
Their faces remained with me
through the years in photographs.
The years slipped by so quickly
from teenager to adult hood,
but still those photographs
kept the past alive to me.
Always hoping one day,
I would be able to see them over again.
More years slipped by
and the chances of that happening
became just as remote as could be,
or so I thought.
Then on the 15 December 2006,
I had an internal message on classmates.com
and that is where the first of my two second chances began.
The second came shortly afterwards
when this classmate introduced me to her friend,
whose encouraging words made me take
the second of my second chances
and on the 19th January 2007 I lifted my pen to paper
after six or seven years
and never looked back since then.
Since that date, I have written
one thousand four hundred and twenty eight poems,
a novel and published my first book.
All because of the second chances, I got.
If you are given a second chance
at anything at all,
grasp them with all your might,
never letting them go
because you will probably never get them again.
22-23 November 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thank You For Writing A Poem For Me
i am your fan
many years and more years to come
i shall remain
your avid fan
thank you for writing me a poem
about love
and sleepless nights
thank you for writing about the ward
the man bound in
straitjacket
that glass of water that has to be taken everyday
to slide the pills smoothly
in your throat
thank you for writing about the children
who shall still find their mothers
their homes
thank you for bearing with us all these years
when we ourselves
have nothing to write anymore
thank you for being there
always and forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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