You little fruitcake, you little fruitcake, I said you are a fruitcake.
quote by Pete Stark
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bathed In A Sea Of Whimsy
I wonder
what it would be like
to swim
in a chocolate
lake
adorned with marzipan fruit
where I could be
myself
nutty as a fruitcake
or happy
as a floating cupcake.
poem by Vince Gullaci
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fruitcakes
Fruitcakes
By: jimmy buffett, amy lee
1994
--spoken:
You know I was talking to my friend desdemona the other day she
Runs this space station and bake shop down near boomtown. she told
Me that human beings are flawed individuals. the cosmic bakers
Took us out of the oven a little too early. and thats the
Reason were as crazy as we are and I believe it.
Take for example when you go to the movies these days, you know.
They try to sell you this jumbo drink, 8 extra ounces of watered
Down cherry coke for an extra 25 cents. I dont want it.
I dont want that much organziation in my life.
I dont want other people thinking for me.
I want my junior mints. where did the junior mints go in the
Movies. I dont want a 12 lb. nestles crunch for 25 dollars. i
Want junior mints.
We need more fruitcakes in this world and less bakers!
We need people that care! Im mad as hell! and I dont want to
Take it anymore!
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the kitchen (fruitcakes in the kitchen)
Fruitcakes on the street (fruitcakes on the street)
Struttin naked through the crosswalk
In the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
Paradise, lost and found
Paradise, take a look around
I was out in california where I hear they have it all
They got riots, fires, mud slides
Theyve got sushi in the mall
Water bars, brontasaurs, chinese modern lust
Shake and bake life with the quake
The secrets in the crust
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the kitchen (fruitcakes in the kitchen)
Fruitcakes on the street (fruitcakes on the street)
Struttin naked through the crosswalk
In the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
--spoken:
Speakin of fruitcakes, how bout the government?
Your tax dollars at work.
We lost our martian rocket ship
The high paid spokesman said
Looks like that silly rocket ship
Has lost its cone shaped head
We spent 90 jillion dollars trying to get a look at mars
I hear universal laughter ringing out among the stars
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the galaxy (fruitcakes in the galaxy)
Fuitcakes on the earth (fruitcakes on the earth)
Struttin naked towards eternity
Weve been that way since birth
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
--spoken:
Religion! religion! oh, theres a thin line between saturday
Night and sunday morning. here we go now.
Alright, alter boys.
Mea culpa mea culpa mea maxima culpa
Mea culpa mea culpa mea maxima culpa
Wheres the church, who took the steeple
Religion is in the hands of some crazy-ass people
Television preachers with bad hair and dimples
The gods honest truth is its not that simple
Its the buddhist in you, its the pagan in me
Its the muslim in him, shes catholic aint she?
Its the born again look its the wasp and the jew
Tell me whats goin on, I aint gotta clue
--spoken:
Now here comes the big ones. relationships! we all got em, we
All want em. what do we do with em?
Here we go, Ill tell ya.
She said you gotta do your fair share
Now cough up half the rent
I treat my body like a temple
You treat yours like a tent
But the right word at the right time
May get me a little hug
Thats the difference between lightning
And a harmless lightnin bug
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the kitchen (fruitcakes in the kitchen)
Fruitcakes on the street (fruitcakes on the street)
Struttin naked through the crosswalk
In the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
--spoken:
The future. captains log, stardate two thousand and something.
Were seven years from the millenium
Thats a science fiction fact
Stanley kubrick and his buddy hal
Now dont look that abstract
So Ill put on my bob marley tape
And practice what I preach
Get jah lost in the reggae mon
As I walk along the beach
Stay in touch with my insanity really is the only way
Its a jungle out there kiddies
Have a very fruitful day
Hey.
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the kitchen (fruitcakes in the kitchen)
Fruitcakes on the street (fruitcakes on the street)
Struttin naked through the crosswalk
In the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
--spoken:
Thats right, you too. yeah those crumbs are spread all around
This universe. Ive seen fruitcakes. I saw this guy in santa
Monica rollerskate naked through the crosswalk. down in new
Orleans in the french market there are fruitcakes like you cannot
Believe. new york, forget it. fruitcake city. down island, weve got
Fruitcakes. spread them crumbs around. thats right, we want
em around. keep bakin baby. keep bakin.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want It Now
Gooses, geeses
I want my geese to lay gold eggs for easter
At least a hundred a day
And by the way
I want a feast
I want a bean feast
Cream buns and doughnuts
And fruitcake with no nuts
So good you could go nuts
No, now
I want a ball
I want a party
Pink macaroons
And a million balloons
And performing baboons and
Give it to me now
I want the world
I want the whole world
I want to lock it
All up in my pocket
It's my bar of chocolate
Give it to me now
I want today
I want tomorrow
I want to wear 'em
Like braids in my hair and
I don't want to share 'em
I want a party with roomfuls of laughter
Ten thousand tons of ice cream
And if I don't get the things I am after
I'm going to scream
I want the works
I want the whole works
Presents and prizes
And sweets and surprises
Of all shapes and sizes
And now
Don't care how, I want it now
Don't care how, I want it now
poem by Roald Dahl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Picture
I hold an image of the ashtray girl
As the cigarette burns on my chest
I wrote a poem that described her world
That put my friendship to the test
And late at night
Whilst on all fours
She used to watch me kiss the floor
Whats wrong with this picture?
Whats wrong with this picture?
Farewell the ashtray girl
Forbidden snowflake
Beware this troubled world
Watch out for earthquakes
Goodbye to open sores
To broken centre floor
We know we miss her
We miss her picture
Sometimes its faded
Disintegrated
For fear of growing old
Sometimes its faded
Assassinated
For fear of growing old
Farewell the ashtray girl
Angelic fruitcake
Beware this troubled world
Control your intake
Goodbye to open sores
Goodbye and furthermore
We know we miss her
We miss her picture
Sometimes its faded
Disintegrated
For fear of growing old
Sometimes its faded
Assassinated
For fear of growing old
Hang on
Though we try
Its gone
Hang on
Though we try
Its gone
Sometimes its faded
Disintegrated
For fear of growing old
Sometimes its faded
Assassinated
For fear of growing old
Cant stop growing old...
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Phone Gift
Cedric gave you a photograph
in the playground
making sure no one
was looking his way first
Christina said to give you this
he said
you took the photograph
and gazed at a picture
of a girl laughing
with dark hair
looking at the camera
in mid pose
thanks
you said
putting the photo
in the inside pocket
of your jacket
she said she'd meet you
on the playing field lunchtime
Cedric informed
unimpressed
ok thanks
you said
to Cedric's departing back
at lunchtime
after eating your sandwiches
and fruitcake
your mother had made
and the watered-down juice
you went to the playing field
and looked for Christina
amongst the hordes
of boys and girls
basking in the sun
or playing ball
then hands covered your eyes
and a voice said
guess who?
you said
Marilyn Monroe?
the hands left your eyes
and Christina said
no it's me
and she stood there
her eyes almost feeling you
as they moved over you
did you get my photo?
she asked
yes it's in my pocket
you said
don't show it to others
she said
I'll keep it under my pillow
you said
I sneaked it out
while no one was looking
this morning
she informed
I'll be for it
if they find out
she said
when was it taken?
you asked
last summer
she said
when I was 12
you don't look 12
in the photo
you said
do I look 13 now?
she asked
she grabbed your hand
and walked you across
the playing field
not waiting
for your reply
you wondered if Goldfinch
or Rolland were watching
while kicking ball
Goldfinch said girls
were an alien race
and best steered clear of
at best ignored
she stopped on the edge
of the playing field
where a small woods
formed the boundary of the field
and looking back
towards the school
some distance away
she whispered in your ear
you'll see just how 13 I am
in that woods one day
and you gave a sigh
noticing big puffy clouds
in a bright blue sky.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mac O'Macorkity
Plaze, Biddy! plaze have yez got soom cold vittles?
Yer dooar's badly 'tinded to; sure'n' I rang twoice.
Doon't faitch me sthale bread; fill me baskits and kittles
With soomthing what's aitable-- soomthing what's noice.
One of our boorders is jist about lavin';
Of roast bafe and sich loike he can't git his fill.
But fruitcake is what me poor mither is cravin',
And there's our great fattin' pig squailin' for swill,--
There's our great fattin' pig squailin' for swill.
Some people manage to get through the world!
The Mac-O'Macorkities probably will;
Yet they have their trials, and they have their troubles--
Do hear that "great fattin' pig squailin' for swill!"
Come Biddy! come now, yer Missus is able
To sind soomthing better than lavin's and scraps;
We boordin'-house kapers must sit a foine table,
Or ilse we moight jist as well pack up our traps.
Faith! and we had to git mate from the butcher,
And he had the impernance to sind in his bill!
As if we'd spind cash that's laid up for the future,
While there's our great fattin' pig squailin' for swill,--
There's our great fattin' pig squailin' for swill.
Hush, Biddy, hush! git ye done with yer blarney;
An old Oi'rish family ours is, ye know.
Along the hoighway forninst Castle Killarney
We rode in our donkey vans ages ago.
Bad loock it is, with the loikes of us livin'
On soup-bones and praties--no chickens to kill,
No turkey at all--not since Thanksgivin',
And there's our great fattin' pig squailin' for swill,--
There's our great fattin' pig squailin' for swill.
Say, Biddy, say! wud ye kape dinner waitin'?
Today is the Barrelbung-makers' parade;
Me fayther is one, and it's him ye're belatin';
Be jabers! it's twilve o'clock now, I'm afraid.
Off on the stroike is he, thinkin' its risky
In such toimes as thase to kape at the mill;
He's nadin' tibbacky, he's noigh out o' whisky,
And there's out great fattin' pig squailin' for swill,--
There's our great fattin' pig squailin' for swill.
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Think-tank! Sink-sank! A LONELY PINK ROSE Shrinks in the Only Garden!
Drifting in the lonely redwoods, I met a monstrous leviathan
By switching his homes and names - hermit and egotist heinous
Loner, sequester and seclusionist are his names - atrocious!
Lonely dybbuk visits every home gifting a rocket to you and me,
Think-tank! Sink-sank! A lonely pink rose shrinks in only garden!
I'm taking blows of west wind in barren land, cries a lone hand;
I'm sitting with empty ache; I'm a fruitcake in the lonely land!
I'm a blue star in the night sky; lonely car in the lonely street.
In darkness, I'm in rivers of blood and fears; is it solo treat?
Think-tank! Sink-sank! A lonely pink rose shrinks in only garden!
Lonely I am, I sit and stare; stand and care, yet a lonely stick!
Lonely I am, I feel pain; I cry my eyes out with lonely lipstick!
Lonely I am, like it or hate it, I feel and deal in lonely date;
I don't want to be lonely, I'm with me yet I'm alone, is it fate?
Think-tank! Sink-sank! A lonely pink rose shrinks in only garden!
Today I'm in sorrow, I don't know tomorrow, sings a lone sparrow;
Lonely in the morning I wake in the life of fake for lonely sake;
Loneness burdens, a gutless fight, a pitiless fall, a story fake!
I don't want to die, but I can't bear it anymore says a lone arrow
Think-tank! Sink-sank! A lonely pink rose shrinks in only garden!
Among horny cassowaries bumbles a solo red robin - lissome
Betwixt morbid jackals tumbles a solo cervid, a deer lovesome
Along the Blue Super Giants funks a solo red dwarf star handsome
In the smutty cabbage skunks shrinks solo cherry blossom awesome,
Think-tank! Sink-sank! A lonely pink rose shrinks in only garden!
poem by Harindhar Reddy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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1 In The Morning
[LL Cool J]
It's one in the mornin - you know what time it is!
It's one in the mornin
It's one in the mornin - you gonna have come out your clothes on this one
It's one in the mornin
Yeah I'm still at it, the microphone addict
You get your dome splattered, cause homey will not have it
Your ashes get scattered across the Atlantic
For actin like you a teenage chick with her bra padded
You might laugh at it, but if you do the knowledge
It's really a tad tragic how they runnin through they cabbage
You know my track record, L battle like a savage
I think and grow rich, that gives me the advantage
Uncle LL, I got product for sale
So I can bail Al Sharpton out of jail
Somebody gotta do it, somebody in the black community
gotta get this money while y'all march for unity
So march on, I'ma get my Bentley park on
Then get my dogs a platform to bark on
The realest brother, you Nicole Kidman, one of 'The Others'
Children shiverin under the covers
The man in black, the tilted Fedora hat
I'm bringin it raw, you never want your money back
I'm focused baby, livin like a quarterback
Playin in the wishbone, L keep options black
Systematically, burn you like calories
Watch your mouth, go earn your lil' salary
I'm a classic like Nike Airs and Wallabees
You could catch it like the flu, homey follow me
[Chorus]
It's one in the mornin - flash the dough
It's one in the mornin - crack the Mo'
It's one in the mornin - get on the flo'
It's one in the mornin - who wanna go?
[LL Cool J]
That's right Sleeping Beauty, wake up see the light
That Tylenol PM got you caught for your BM
Everybody can see I'm the king of rippin coliseums
C'mon, youse a male groupie beggin for per diem
A fruitcake laid out in the masoleum
I'm the richest man in Babylon, nobody could see him
Money's my slave, it do what I say
It cry for me, like Denzel in "Glory"
But I broke the cycle, no more poverty
I wonder if you hatin on the low - probably!
But cats know I'm real, I keep 'em on they heels
Damn! Look at my body, coulda been a Navy Seal
But you lack the discipline to do what I do
Reinvention, I'm in the 11th dimension
I'm a value stock pop, get it while it's hot
Cause once I blow, I'ma split and that's it
[Chorus]
It's one in the mornin - flash the dough
It's one in the mornin - crack the Mo'
It's one in the mornin - get on the flo'
It's one in the mornin - who wanna go?
[Chorus]
It's one in the mornin - flash the dough
It's one in the mornin - crack the Mo'
It's one in the mornin - get on the flo'
It's one in the mornin - who wanna go?
[LL Cool J]
Aiyyo E it's one o'clock
Time to get one and bounce baby
It's time to get one and bounce, you know what time it is
Your honor, last week he punched me in my face
I want twenty million, you know he liftin weights
Last week, me and the President was takin flicks
Last week, my video dropped and you was sick
Last week, I copped my lil' shorty some kicks
that cost 29 hundred, homey you don't want it
My ears stay flooded like your man stay blunted
My American Express is Black, I'm at the Summit
The Benjamin Grier of Def Jam, y'all know
My po'tfolio was sicker than polio
For real God is good, he took me out the hood
Got me livin in a mansion like a big boy should
And I never do Cribs, I ain't gonna have y'all fruitcakes
knowin how I live, bed extra big
You sit around, run your mouth, POTbelly on the couch
Claimin you hot but honey what you wove out
When she alone, pump L, I make her bounce
You on the corner riskin your life to sell a ounce
Wish you was Pablo, lay in the carbo
With a chick named Margo who flew from Chicago
But no, in real life cats catch it
It's not what you expected huh? Life kinda hectic huh?
[Chorus]
It's one in the mornin - flash the dough
It's one in the mornin - crack the Mo'
It's one in the mornin - get on the flo'
It's one in the mornin - who wanna go?
[Chorus]
It's one in the mornin - flash the dough
It's one in the mornin - crack the Mo'
It's one in the mornin - get on the flo'
It's one in the mornin - who wanna go?
[LL Cool J]
Yeah yeah
It's the definition
Definition
Definition potna, eleven in a row!
song performed by by LL Cool J
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Transparent Man
I'm mighty glad to see you, Mrs. Curtis,
And thank you very kindly for this visit--
Especially now when all the others here
Are having holiday visitors, and I feel
A little conspicuous and in the way.
It's mainly because of Thanksgiving. All these mothers
And wives and husbands gaze at me soulfully
And feel they should break up their box of chocolates
For a donation, or hand me a chunk of fruitcake.
What they don't understand and never guess
Is that it's better for me without a family;
It's a great blessing. Though I mean no harm.
And as for visitors, why, I have you,
All cheerful, brisk and punctual every Sunday,
Like church, even if the aisles smell of phenol.
And you always bring even better gifts than any
On your book-trolley. Though they mean only good,
Families can become a sort of burden.
I've only got my father, and he won't come,
Poor man, because it would be too much for him.
And for me, too, so it's best the way it is.
He knows, you see, that I will predecease him,
Which is hard enough. It would take a callous man
To come and stand around and watch me failing.
(Now don't you fuss; we both know the plain facts.)
But for him it's even harder. He loved my mother.
They say she looked like me; I suppose she may have.
Or rather, as I grew older I came to look
More and more like she must one time have looked,
And so the prospect for my father now
Of losing me is like having to lose her twice.
I know he frets about me. Dr. Frazer
Tells me he phones in every single day,
Hoping that things will take a turn for the better.
But with leukemia things don't improve.
It's like a sort of blizzard in the bloodstream,
A deep, severe, unseasonable winter,
Burying everything. The white blood cells
Multiply crazily and storm around,
Out of control. The chemotherapy
Hasn't helped much, and it makes my hair fall out.
I know I look a sight, but I don't care.
I care about fewer things; I'm more selective.
It's got so I can't even bring myself
To read through any of your books these days.
It's partly weariness, and partly the fact
That I seem not to care much about the endings,
How things work out, or whether they even do.
What I do instead is sit here by this window
And look out at the trees across the way.
You wouldn't think that was much, but let me tell you,
It keeps me quite intent and occupied.
Now all the leaves are down, you can see the spare,
Delicate structures of the sycamores,
The fine articulation of the beeches.
I have sat here for days studying them,
And I have only just begun to see
What it is that they resemble. One by one,
They stand there like magnificent enlargements
Of the vascular system of the human brain.
I see them there like huge discarnate minds,
Lost in their meditative silences.
The trunks, branches and twigs compose the vessels
That feed and nourish vast immortal thoughts.
So I've assigned them names. There, near the path,
Is the great brain of Beethoven, and Kepler
Haunts the wide spaces of that mountain ash.
This view, you see, has become my Hall of Fame,
It came to me one day when I remembered
Mary Beth Finley who used to play with me
When we were girls. One year her parents gave her
A birthday toy called "The Transparent Man."
It was made of plastic, with different colored organs,
And the circulatory system all mapped out
In rivers of red and blue. She'd ask me over
And the two of us would sit and study him
Together, and do a powerful lot of giggling.
I figure he's most likely the only man
Either of us would ever get to know
Intimately, because Mary Beth became
A Sister of Mercy when she was old enough.
She must be thirty-one; she was a year
Older than I, and about four inches taller.
I used to envy both those advantages
Back in those days. Anyway, I was struck
Right from the start by the sea-weed intricacy,
The fine-haired, silken-threaded filiations
That wove, like Belgian lace, throughout the head.
But this last week it seems I have found myself
Looking beyond, or through, individual trees
At the dense, clustered woodland just behind them,
Where those great, nameless crowds patiently stand.
It's become a sort of complex, ultimate puzzle
And keeps me fascinated. My eyes are twenty-twenty,
Or used to be, but of course I can't unravel
The tousled snarl of intersecting limbs,
That mackled, cinder grayness. It's a riddle
Beyond the eye's solution. Impenetrable.
If there is order in all that anarchy
Of granite mezzotint, that wilderness,
It takes a better eye than mine to see it.
It set me on to wondering how to deal
With such a thickness of particulars,
Deal with it faithfully, you understand,
Without blurring the issue. Of course I know
That within a month the sleeving snows will come
With cold, selective emphases, with massings
And arbitrary contrasts, rendering things
Deceptively simple, thickening the twigs
To frosty veins, bestowing epaulets
And decorations on every birch and aspen.
And the eye, self-satisfied, will be misled,
Thinking the puzzle solved, supposing at last
It can look forth and comprehend the world.
That's when you have to really watch yourself.
So I hope that you won't think me plain ungrateful
For not selecting one of your fine books,
And I take it very kindly that you came
And sat here and let me rattle on this way.
poem by Anthony Evan Hecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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