Easter Sunday (and not a word from McD's)
Today I solemnly resolve to say nothing
Not to observe nor write a single line
I won't even mention the man dressed like a cowboy
Nor that voluptuous chick lookin' fine
I'll not fixate on the fat,
nor lay praise on the lean
Not one single comment
Be it kindly or mean
The tall skinny lady sitting opposite me
With the red fright-wig hair
Well today I shan't make mention
That she's even there
For this Easter Sunday
I shall refrain from writing
Of people no matter be they
Strange and funky
Not even whether
that lady Is cradling
Her baby…or is that
A Rhesus monkey?
Today being Easter Sunday,
I'll not comment, I'll give it a rest,
Keep my chin on my chest
just keep my eyes on my book
But daaamn! Does that fat lady
With the monkey-like kid
Really have hair on her breast! ! ?
Guess it won't hurt to take a second look
(Sorry!) Well I hope my readers (reader?)
Will enjoy my missing Sunday spiel
My weekly dose of geezer-prose
My remarks on schmoes and schlemiels
This week I'll write not, a single jot
Nor a passing shot will I take
I shall keep my pen in my pocket
as if it were locked, and then…
Give you all a well earned "David O" break
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Happy Easter!
Palm Sunday has gone,
Holy week has begun,
The week with events
Leading to Jesus torments,
To His Resurrection,
Showing the spirits domination.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
Easter Sunday today,
The greatest holiday.
We pray and say,
All around the world,
The words of love to our Lord
Showing that his death was not in vain.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
We light the candles
As a symbol of the rising sun,
And their light resembles
Jesus was really God’s Son.
The light comes back to the world
With the risen Jesus.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
The church bells ring,
The whole world sings Alleluia!
Easter eggs we bring
As a symbol of spring
With pretty small limes
Since the ancient times.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
Easter Rabbits or Easter Bunny
Look today happy and sunny.
They represent a new life
Full of presents and so nice.
We wear new clothes to look the best,
We’d like to follow His behest.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
The history of Sunday Easter has a long story,
And today we proclaim Jesus Christ Day
And say: Glory to our Lord!
Glory to the King of all Christians:
Ukrainians and Indians,
Russians and Americans,
Of all those who want to live in love and peace,
Our life for better to increase.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
And…..Happy Easter!
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
The 24th of April,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Lady
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Lovely lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
Hear me calling out to you
'Cause that's all that I can do
Your eyes tell me to pursue
But you say "Look yeah, but don't touch, baby"
Nah, nah, nah don't touch
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Sexy lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
I would dance upon a string
Any gift she'd want I'd bring
I would give her anything
If she would just do what I say
Come 'round my way, baby
Shine my way
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Lovely lady (who's that lady)
Real real fine lady (who's that lady)
I would love to take her home
But her heart is made of stone
Gotta keep on keepin' on
If I don't she'll do me wrong
Do me wrong, yeah
(Instrumental)
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lean On Me (Tonight)
Lazy day, Sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch TV.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Must be lamb today 'cause beef was last week.
So full up, bursting at the seams,
Soon you'll start to nod off, happy dreams.
Wake up, for tea and buttered scones
Such a lot of work for you Sunday moms.
It's such a crying shame
Week after week the same.
Today's heaven-sent and you're feeling content,
You worked all week long.
Still, it's quite sad tomorrow's so bad
And I don't feel too strong.
Lazy day, Sunday afternoon,
LIke to get your feet up, watch TV.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Now it's almost over till next week.
That's how your life goes by
Until the day you die.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who's That Lady
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Lovely lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
Hear me callin' out to you
'Cause it's all that I can do
Your eyes tell me to pursue
But you say look yeah, but don't touch (but don't touch), baby
nah, nah, nah don't touch
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Sexy lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
I would dance upon a string
Any gift she'd wanna bring
I would give her anything
If she would just do what I say (just do what I say)
Come 'round my way, baby
Shine my way
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Lovely lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
I would love to take her home
But her heart is made of stone
I would keep on keepin' on
If I don't she'll do me wrong
Do me wrong, yeah
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mayor Giuliani at Eastertime
Easter Sunday 2005,
Rudy Giuliani was with his former wife.
His children were also there,
smell of turkey lingered in the air.
For it was Easter Sunday,
everyone was thankful with words of praise.
Posing for the camera’s with all smiles,
dressed in Easter clothes with lots of style.
Also photographing Donald and his wife,
she was carrying a new precious life.
Mya and Ron would stand by Donald’s side,
all posed for a photo to remember Eastertime.
Only a small print run would show this affair,
paper not distributed everywhere.
That’s o.k. the Shiny Sheet was there.
(May 23, 2011)
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Much Monkey Business
Salesman talking to me tried to run me up a creek
Says you can buy it, go on try it, you can pay me next week
Uh-uh, too much monkey business, too much monkey business
Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Oh-ho-ho
Blonde haired, good lookin tryin to get me hooked
Wants me to marry, settle down and get a home and and write a book
Uh-uh, too much monkey business, too much monkey business
Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Oh-ho-ho
Pay phone, somethin wrong, dial gone,
Well me ought to sue the operator for tellin me a tale
Uh-uh, too much monkey business, too much monkey business
Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Oh-ho-ho
Oh-ho-ho ...... oh-ho-ho ...... oh-ho-ho ...... oh-ho-ho
Been to vietnam, been a fightin in the war
Army bar, army chow, army clothes, army car
Uh-uh, too much monkey business, too much monkey business
Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Oh-ho-ho
Workin in the fillin station, too many tasks
Wipe the windo, check the tires, check the oil, dollar gas
Uh-uh, too much monkey business, too much monkey business
Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Oh-ho-ho
Blonde haired, good lookin tryin to get me hooked
Wants me to marry, get a home, settle down and and write a book
Uh-uh, too much monkey business, too much monkey business
Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Oh-ho-ho
Too much monkey business, oh-ho-ho, too much monkey business, oh-ho-ho
Too much monkey business, oh-ho-ho too much monkey business, oh-ho-ho
Too much monkey business, oh-ho-ho too much monkey business, oh-ho-ho
song performed by by Elvis Presley, music by Chuck Berry, lyrics by Chuck Berry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Alice-Sit-By-The-Hour
Lady in the blue kimono, you that live across the way,
One may see you gazing, gazing gazing all the livelong day,
Idly looking out your window from your vantage point above.
Are you convalescent, lady? Are you worse? Are you in love?
Ever gazing, as you hang there on the little window seat,
Into flats across the way or down upon the prosy street,
Can't you rent a pianola? Can't you iron, sew, or cook?
Write a letter, bake a pudding, make a bed or read a book?
Tell me of the fascination you indubitably find
In the "High Cash Cloe's!" man's holler in the hurdy-gurdy grind.
Are your Spanish castles blue prints? Are you waiting for a knight
To descend upon your fastness and to save you from your plight?
Lady in the blue kimono, idle mollycoddle dame,
Does your doing nothing never make you feel the blush of shame?
As you sit and stare and ditto, not a single thing to do,
Lady in the blue kimono, lady, how I envy you!
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunday Morning
Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hey Lucky Lady
Hey lucky lady lucky lady I was once the lucky lady
I was happy with my baby I was such a lucky lady
Hey lucky lady lucky lady you are now the lucky lady
Are you happy with my baby you know you're a lucky lady you lucky lady
Lucky lady that's what I was I was happy to have his love
All a woman could wish for he was that and so much more
He was mine and how I loved him before your hands ever touched him
Long before your temptin' eyes lured my baby from my life
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Is it love or is it pleasure do you know you've found a treasure
Are you only having fun do you know the prize you've won
If you don't want something lasting if it's just the time you're passing
Lucky lady give him up cause I do love him very much
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
song performed by by Dolly Parton, music by Dolly Parton (1975)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hypocrisy In Christianity
today is Sunday
the one day sunday christians
are off to church
these are the Christians
who are only Christian
one day Sunday a week
Christians for only one day?
one day sunday for a few hours?
sin of Hypocrisy in Christianity?
is one of the most detestable sins
it causes righteous worshippers to stumble
it takes the name of God in vain
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Little Thought
Don't you hate it when nothing comes to mind
Can't even write one single line.
So many thoughts all entertwine
Can't even write one single line
Look at this page so white and fine
Can't even write one single line
Just had to think and take my time
(11.30.12)
poem by Earl Spencer
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Aimless Lady
Aimless lady, is this your home town?
Tell me baby, tell me where youre bound.
When our eyes met, you were in the very first row.
I couldnt even guess your name, but I just had to know.
You were meant for me, would you grab your coat and flee?
You were a mystery, but you just had to be ...
An aimless lady.
Aimless lady.
Aimless lady.
Should I try, and satisfy, you lady?
Aint no lie, now well get by, my baby.
If you can stand, a real good man, now lady,
Take my hand, and understand, me baby.
Take your time, youre doing fine, now lady.
You got yours, and I got mine, now baby.
Can you see, the way to be, now lady.
Stay with me, and set me free, now baby.
Aimless lady.
Aimless lady.
Aimless lady.
Youre mine aimless lady.
Yeah, aimless lady.
Youre mine aimless lady.
Mine, aimless lady.
Oooo ...
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lazy Day
Lazy day, sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch t.v.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Must be beef today cause lamb was last week.
So full up, bursting at the seams,
Soon youll start to nod off, happy dreams.
Wake up, for tea and buttered scones
Such a lot of work for you sunday moms.
Its such a crying shame
Week after week the same.
Todays heaven-sent and youre feeling content,
You worked all week long.
Still, its quite sad tomorrows so bad
And I dont feel so strong.
Lazy day, sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch t.v.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Now its almost over till week.
Thats how your life goes by
Until the day you die.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sold
(richard fagan/robb royer)
Well i went down to the grundy county auction
Where i saw something i just had to have
My mind told me i should proceed with caution
But my heart said, "go ahead an' make a bid on that!"
An' i said, hey, pretty lady, won'cha gi'me a sign
I'd give anything to make you mine all mine
I'll do your biddin' an' be at your beckon call
Yeah, i never seen anyone lookin' so fine
Man, i gotta have her, she's a one-of-a-kind
I'm goin' once, goin' twice,
I'm sold! on the lady in the second row
She's an eight, she's a nine, she's a ten, i know
She's got ruby red lips, blond hair, blue eyes
An' i'm about to bid my heart good-bye!
Well, the auctioneer was goin' about a mile a minute
He was takin' bids an' callin' them out loud
An' i guess i was really gettin' in it
'cause i just shouted out above the crowd!
An' i said, hey, pretty lady, won'cha gi'me a sign
I'd give anything to make you mine all mine
I'll do your biddin' an' be at your beckon call
Yeah, i never seen anyone lookin' so fine
Man, i gotta have her, she's a one-of-a-kind
I'm goin' once, goin' twice,
I'm sold! on the lady in the long black dress
Well she won my heart it was no contest
With her ruby red lips, blond hair, blue eyes
Well i'm about to bid my heart good-bye!
Yeah, we found love on the auction block
An' i hauled her heart away
Now we still love to laugh about
The way we met that day
When i said, hey, pretty lady, won'cha gi'me a sign
I'd give anything to make you mine all mine
I'll do your biddin' an' be at your beckon call
Yeah, i never seen anyone lookin' so fine
Man, i gotta have her, she's a one-of-a-kind
I'm goin' once, goin' twice,
I'm sold! on the lady in the second row
She's an eight, she's a nine, she's a ten, i know
Shes's got ruby red lips, blond hair blue eyes
An' i'm about to bid my heart good-bye!
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bill 'Awkins
"'As anybody seen Bill 'Awkins?"
"Now 'ow in the devil would I know?"
"'E's taken my girl out walkin',
An' I've got to tell 'im so --
Gawd -- bless -- 'im!
I've got to tell 'im so."
"D'yer know what 'e's like, Bill 'Awkins?"
"Now what in the devil would I care?"
"'E's the livin', breathin' image of an organ-grinder's monkey,
With a pound of grease in 'is 'air --
Gawd -- bless -- 'im!
An' a pound o' grease in 'is 'air."
"An' s'pose you met Bill 'Awkins,
Now what in the devil 'ud ye do?"
"I'd open 'is cheek to 'is chin-strap buckle,
An' bung up 'is both eyes, too --
Gawd -- bless -- 'im!
An' bung up 'is both eyes, too!"
"Look 'ere, where 'e comes, Bill 'Awkins!
Now what in the devil will you say?"
"It isn't fit an' proper to be fightin' on a Sunday,
So I'll pass 'im the time o' day --
Gawd -- bless -- 'im!
I'll pass 'im the time o' day!"
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Easter Parade
In your easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it,
Youll be the grandest lady in the easter parade.
Ill be all in clover and when they look you over,
Ill be the proudest fellow in the easter parade.
On the avenue, fifth avenue, the photographers will snap us,
And youll find that youre in the rotogravure.
Oh, I could write a sonnet about your easter bonnet,
And of the girl Im taking to the easter parade.
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lady Jane
Sitting all alone, inside, today jane.
The other girls are home, were playing a new game.
The voice is very, very close, you like it that way,
And were feeling rather warm inside.
Are you smiling or afraid?
You can have it either way.
Lady jane your eyes are wide today,
And the world is looking very strange, you must proclaim!
Its quite a scary, scary ride we take, lady jane.
Yesterday seemed very dark, but now its bright,
Your clouds have gone away.
Sensory perception peaking at this time,
Electric waves of sound are filling janies mind today
Calling out to janie as you drift away, dont be afraid,
Theyre only your illusion anyway.
Lady jane your eyes are wide today.
And were sure you wont forget the things
Youve seen today!
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aphrodite Metropolis
Harry loves Myrtle--He has strong arms, from the warehouse,
And on Sunday when they take the bus to emerald meadows he doesn't say:
"What will your chastity amount to when your flesh withers in a little while?"
No,
On Sunday, when they picnic in emerald meadows they look at the Sunday paper:
GIRL SLAYS BANKER-BETRAYER
They spread it around on the grass
BATH-TUB STIRS JERSEY ROW
And then they sit down on it, nice.
Harry doesn't say "Ziggin's Ointment for withered flesh,
Cures thousands of men and women of motes, warts, red veins,
flabby throat, scalp and hair diseases,
Not expensive, and fully guaranteed."
No,
Harry says nothing at all,
He smiles,
And they kiss in the emerald meadows on the Sunday paper.
poem by Kenneth Fearing
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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