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I'd rather work with someone who's good at their job but doesn't like me, than someone who likes me but is a ninny.

quote by Sam Donaldson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm the Girl

I'm the girl
That doesn't like mornings,
Only showers at night
It's so hot, it's scalding

I'm the girl
That likes butterflies and fairies
Chocolates and ice-cream
But doesn't like berries

I'm the girl
Who says she has to tinkle
When she needs the ladies
And likes to be fickle

I'm the girl
That loves to read and write
Doesn't like makeup
And always puts up a fight

I'm the girl
Whose imagination runs wild
Likes to try most things
Scary or mild

I'm the girl
Who writes poems in the shower
Then forgets them
In less than an hour

I'm the girl
That wrote this twice
Yesterday it was great
Today it's just nice

poem by scarlette Phoenix
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh The Guilt (Outtake '93)

She seems to think
She seems too weak
She takes a week to get over it
She likes the sea
She likes to see
She likes to think she has all of it
She likes the sound
She likes the sand
She likes to stand, she cant afford to sit
She likes to be
Shes into guilt
Guilt
She likes to think
She likes to drink
She seems too weak, she takes all the rent
She likes the time
She owns the time
She borrows time to self-invent
She seems too weak
She likes to see
She likes to think she has all of it
She likes the sand
She likes to stand
She likes to sit
She likes to go
Go
She likes to be
She likes to go
Go

song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Guilt

She seems to think
She seems too weak
She takes a week to get over it
She likes the sea
She likes to see
She likes to think she has all of it
She likes the sound
She likes the sand
She likes to stand, she cant afford to sit
She likes to be
Shes into guilt
Guilt
She likes to think
She likes to drink
She seems too weak, she takes all the rent
She likes the time
She owns the time
She borrows time to self-invent
She seems too weak
She likes to see
She likes to think she has all of it
She likes the sand
She likes to stand
She likes to sit
She likes to go
Go
She likes to be
She likes to go
Go

song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, The Guilt

She seems to think
She seems too weak
She takes a week to get over it
She likes the sea
She likes to see
She likes to think she has to alter it
She likes the sound
She likes the sand
She likes to stand, she can't afford to sit
She likes to be
She likes to be
She likes to be
She's into guilt
Go
She likes to think
She likes to drink
She seems too weak, she takes all the rent
She likes the time
She owns the time
She borrows time and has to self-invent
She seems too weak
She likes to see
She likes to think she has to alter it
She likes the sand
She likes to stand
She likes to sit
She likes to go
Go

song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Likes To Roll

(carly simon)
Why do I try to win the love
That Ive already wooed and won
(chorus)
cause he likes to roll he likes to roll
He likes to roll he likes to roll
He takes the flower from his button hole
When he likes to roll, he likes to roll
I tend to lose my self control
When he likes to roll, he likes to roll
Here in this little sunny bay
Once a day he comes and goes
(chorus)
He likes to roll...
The moon is down but the odds are high
That seeming me, he wont pass me by
(chorus)
He likes to roll...

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grissom is a character who doesn't really want people poking around in his life. He likes to poke around in his work.

quote by William Petersen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm just like every other girl who likes to shop, likes to look good, likes to spend time with friends.

quote by Maria Sharapova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They say poets write mostly for themselves; if anyone else likes it, well and good, if not, it doesn't matter; certainly, not to me.

quote by Tom Glazer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Because

Just because you did
Doesn't mean that you should
Just because you can
Doesn't mean that you could
Just because you are able
Doesn't mean you would
Just because you sat
Doesn't mean you should‘ve stood.
Just because you spoke
Doesn't mean that you thought
Just because you looked
Doesn't mean that you sought
Just because you argued
Doesn't mean that you fought
Just because you dreamed
Doesn't mean that you wished not.
Just because you cried
Doesn't mean that you wept
Just because you had
Doesn't mean that you kept
Just because you cleaned
Doesn't mean that you swept
Just because you said yes
Doesn't mean that you accept.
Just because you gathered
Doesn't mean that you own
Just because you gave up
Doesn't mean that you were alone
Just because you saw
Doesn't mean that you were shown
Just because you expiate
Doesn't mean you should atone.
Just because your old
Doesn't mean that you have flaws
Just because you won
Doesn't mean you have to applause
Just because you waited
Doesn't mean that you paused
Just because you were you
Doesn't mean anything, because.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Can't Make What Doesn't Work

You can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If it is clear to me,
My life's just fine without it.

I want to say that,
You can't make what doesn't work...
For me exist.
When my happiness,
Doesn't depend on it.

I have my own beliefs,
That satisifies my every need.
The memories that I keep,
Reminds me how I stood...
Up on my own two feet.

No you can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If with a faith I took risks,
And decided that my own life I would live.

I have my own beliefs,
That satisifies my every need.
The memories that I keep,
Reminds me how I got to stand up..
On my own two feet.

Oh...
You can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If it is clear to me,
My life's just fine without it.

So, if it doesn't work for you,
Why do you wish to prove...
What it is that I do,
Is a waste of effort.

So, if it doesn't work for you,
Why do you wish to prove...
What it is that I do,
Is to me a disservice.

You can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If it is clear to me,
My life's just fine without it.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bob Says

Bob says the harder I work the luckier I seem to get
And do not tell me there is not money in the loss of human sweat
If I did not work as hard less money I would have for to spend
The wealthy one has lots of mates but the pauper does not have a friend.

Bob says my neighbour Freddy he does like to complain
He only works three days a week and though to him I try to explain
Had he got another part time job how much better off he would be
But he just likes to have his whinge he does not listen to me.

Hard work doesn't seem to bother Bob the harder I work he say
The more money I always make life seems to be that way
One would have to become very lucky to become a lotto millionaire
And those who come by money in the easy way to say the least are rare.

Bob says the harder I work the wealthier I seem to grow
Were I a lazy fellow I would not have much to show
For the opportunities I've been granted for the betterment of myself, my children and my wife
The work shy and lazy person never will succeed in life.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want To Be A Writer

She's got a car crash for a soul
through restriction and repetition I'm growing old
And it doesn't feel like this
Everyone doesn't know what they really can do
No one is like you
(no one is a god and nobody's like you
no one is a god and nobody likes you)

song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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MY BABY LIKES TO.......by Talile Ali

MY BABY LIKES TO GET BANGED
MY BABY LIKES IT A LOT
DO IT ALL DAY LONG
WITH JUST AS MANY STIFF DONGS
MY BABY LIKES TO GANG BANG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG

5,19,15,29
BIG, STRONG, HANDSOME, UGLY
MY BABY WANTS TO FEEL THE MONKEY'S COME
BACK TO BACK,2,3 & 4
MY BABY CAN DO SO MANY MORE
MY BABY LIKES HER SOME
MY BABY LIKES HER FUN

MY BABY LIKES TO GET BANGED
MY BABY LIKES IT A LOT
DO IT ALL DAY LONG
WITH JUST AS MANY STIFF DONGS
MY BABY LIKES TO GANG BANG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG

SHE CAN DO IT IN THE MORNIN
SHE CAN DO IT NOON AND NOGHT
SHE CAN DO'EM EATING HER LUNCH
EVEN WHEN SHE DON'T FEEL RIGHT
MY BABY LIKES TO GAND BANG
EVERY SINGLE KIND OF WAY
IF SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO WORK
WE'LL SHE'D BE DOING ALL, OK?

MY BABY LIKES TO GET BANGED
MY BABY LIKES IT A LOT
DO IT ALL DAY LONG
WITH JUST AS MANY STIFF DONGS
MY BABY LIKES TO GANG BANG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG

poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You work enough with someone and you develop a shorthand. You know how he likes to work through the day and he knows where you're vulnerable and where your weaknesses and strengths are, so it makes for a good team, a team that knows who's over there behind your back.

quote by David Strathairn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am the one of those.....

I am one of those who likes to live,
to be a friend and to forgive.
I am one of those who hates a lie,
if it were for me a war I would deny.
I am one of those who likes to dream,
if to play games then in a family team.
I am one of those who likes to sing
and listen to the bells ring.
I am one of those who likes to laugh,
the time with my dear ones is not enough.
I am one of those who likes fairy tales
and I know that even a hero sometimes fails.
I am thankful to my God and ask our Lord
to prolong my days
so that to look for the new ways.
I am one of those who tries to find the door
leading to more happiness,
I always try to avoid loneliness.
I am one of those who likes to give,
I am one of those who likes to live.

Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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McCoy

McCoy is a boy,

he doesn't annoy

as he is my pet.

Let's have a bet

he is not fat.

He looks so stout

without any doubt

because of his hair,

it looks so fair,

it's white like snow,

it quickly grow

for me to make a pillow.

I love him so much;

his gentle touch

makes me smile,

it's just his style

to ask for a walk.

That's his way to talk.

When we go out

he becomes a scout,

he wants to know all

though he is small.

He is so curious,

he is never furious.

He likes to be warmed,

he likes to be combed,

he doesn't like to be washed,

and certainly to be bossed.

My home is never empty,

he always waits for me,

when I come back he shows

how much he missed me;

he wags his tail,

that's his way to hail;

he looks into my eyes,

he wants to get a prize.

I will never offend

my devoted friend.

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Song of Ninian Melville

Sing the song of noisy Ninny - hang the Muses - spit it out!
(Tuneful Nine ye needn't help me - poet knows his way about!)
Sling me here a penny whistle - look alive, and let me slip
Into Ninny like a father - Ninny with the nimble lip.
Mister Melville, straight descendant from Professor Huxley's ape,
Started life a mute for daddy - pulling face, sporting crape;
But, alas, he didn't like it - lots of work and little pay.
Nature whispered, 'you're a windbag - play your cards another way.'

Mister Melville picked the hint up - pitched the coffin 'biz' to pot;
Paid his bills, or didn't pay them - doesn't matter now a jot!
Twigging how the bread was buttered, he commenced a 'waiting game':
Pulled the strings upon the quiet - no one 'tumbled' to his aim.
Paine, he purchased, Strauss, he borrowed - read a page or two of each;
Posed before his father's porkers - made to them his maiden speech.
Then he spluttered, 'Ninny has it! Nin will keep himself in clothes,
Like the gutter Tully, Bradlaugh, leading noodles by the nose!'

In the fly-blown village pothouse, where a dribbling bag of beer,
Passes for a human being, Nin commenced his new career -
Talked about the 'Christian swindle' - cut the Bible into bits -
Shook his fist at Mark and Matthew - gave the twelve Apostles fits:
Slipped into the priests and parsons - hanunered at the British Court - -
Boozy boobies were astonished: lubbers of the Lambton sort!
Yards of ear were cocked to listen - yards of mouth began to shout
'Here's a cove as is long-headed - Ninny knows his way about.'

Mister MelviRe was delighted - game in hand was paying well:
Fools and coin don't hang together - Nin became a howling swell!
Took to 'stumping' on the Racecourse - cut the old debating club:
Wouldn't do for mighty Ninny now to mount a local tub!
Thornton's Column was his platform: here our orator began
Hitting at the yellow heathen - cracking up the 'working man' -
Spitting out at Immigration: roaring, like a worried bull,
At the lucre made from tallow - at the profit raised on wool.

Said our Ninny to our Ninny, 'I have not the slightest doubt
Soaping down the ''orny 'anded' is the safest 'bizness' out!
Little work for spanking wages - this is just the thing they like,
So I'll prop the eight hour swindle - be the boss in every strike.
In the end, I'll pull a pot off ~ what I'm at is bound to take:
Ninny sees a bit before him - Ninny's eyes are wide awake!
When the boobies make me member, Parkes, of course, will offer tip -
I will take the first fat billet - then my frouzy friends may rip.'

So it came to pass that Melville, Mister Melville, I should say -
Dodged about with deputations, half a dozen times a day!
Started strikes and bossed the strikers - damned employers, every one,
On the Column - off the Column - in the shanty - in the sun!
'Down with masters - up with wages! keep the 'pigtail' out of this!'
This is what our Ninny shouted - game, you see, of hit or miss!
World, of course, is full of noodles - some who bray at Wallsend sent
Thing we know to be a windbag bouncing into Parliament!

Common story, this of Ninny! many fellows of his breed
Prowl about to bone the guinea, up to dirty tricks indeed;
Haven't now the time to tan them: but, by Jove, I'd like to tan
Back of that immense imposter that they call the 'working man'!
Drag upon our just employees - sponger on a worn-out wife
Boozing in alley pothouse every evening of his life.
Type he is of Nin's supporters: tot him up and tot him down,
He would back old Nick to-morrow for the sake of half a crown!

House with high, august traditions - Chamber where the voice of Lowe,
And the lordly words of Wentworth sounded thirty years ago -
Hall familiar to our fathers, where, in days exalted, rang
All the tones of all the feeling which ennobled Bland and Lang -
We in ashes - we in sack cloth, sorrow for the insult cast
By a crowd of bitter boobies on the grandeur of the past!
Take again your penny whistle - boy, it is no good to me:
Last invention is a bladder with the title of M.P.!

poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dog Days of Summer

It’s a hot and lazy time of year
With temperatures rising high
A body doesn’t want to work
Doesn’t even want to try

It’s time to lie around and rest
Not exert much energy
It’s too hot to work but rather
We want to take it pretty easy

And if you do have to work
Either do it early in the morn
Or after the sun goes down
Sometime before the dawn

Oh how nice it feels
On these dog days of summer
When the sun drops down
The day has turned a bit cooler

So in the midst of winter time
When snow is on the hills
Dog days of summer sound
Kind of good amongst the chills!

poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm tired of hearing it said that democracy doesn't work. Of course it doesn't work. We are supposed to work it.

quote by Alexander Woollcott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learn About the Little Boy Who Thinks He's Grown

My brother is like any other
Sits at home watches T.V.
Likes to go outside but can never defeat
He's charming but mean
When comes to messing with me
And doesn't really care about school
He's bad in school
He curses at the teacher even at the students
Doesn't give a damn of who got excuses
His name is Joshua
And has a brother who is only 2 years of age
But the funny thing is they argue everyday
My brother is gready he likes to eat
He'll eat my plate of food his plate of food and even yours
That's Joshua with 4 years of age

poem by LADii3 T Hinojosa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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