Guillotine
the guillotine stands
alone in the square,
the pinnacle of pulse....
that drains the heartbeats....
traffic heavy, horns honking,
hurrying, hurrying....
trucks and buses puffing clouds
of death into the air....
neon signs keeping score.
billboards selling the dream,
street preachers selling Jesus....
corner whores selling themselves....
in sterile rooms atop the skyscrapers,
far from the stink, far from
trash strewn in the alleyways
like tiny lives forgotten,
gum stuck to the shoes.....
they gamble with futures,
trading hungry mouths without faces;
never looking back.... vultures
in black suits and ties...
winning, winning, or losing it all.
while the homeless and the addicts
walk the streets below....
looking for something they cant remember....
light dancing on the razor-like blade.....
heads from bodies, hearts from souls......
profit from the last heartbeat!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
As Time Goes By
In our town there were many small shops, one selling
buttons the other socks; and a hardware store should
you need a hammer and nails to hang up a picture of
your mother -in- law, in the living room.
There was also a shop selling scarves, another selling
ladies hats, and a third one, quite posh, selling suits and
ties. I mustn’t forget the shoe shop, leather footwear
black or brown and white tennis shoes.
In our street of trade most shops have shut, those still
open are run by the Orientals where you can buy all
you need for a very small price. If your shoes wear out,
no point going to the old cobbler, buy Chinese instead.
Red lanterns sway in the fiscal breeze of decline where
wistfulness has no price tag. But you must remember
this, a shop is just a shop, yet, for us sentimental fools,
are remembered as a sweet memory of times gone by,
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Selling My Soul
Man of madness, who lives in my head
Keeping me awake at night, he sits on my bed
He drives me crazy, he wont go away
Playing his game every night and every day
Yeah
My mind feels heavy, my body feels weak
Suicidal thoughts crying out for some sleep
Impending doom is what Im about
Think Im going out without a shadow of doubt
I search for serenity yeah,
Is it really out there?
I dont read the holy books cause
They take me no where
I cant hold on yes Im losing control
Im paying the price now for
Selling my soul, selling my soul
I search for serenity, yeah
Is it really out there?
I dont read the holy books cause
They take me no where
I cant hold on yes Im losing control
Im paying the price now for
Selling my soul, selling my soul
Yeah, for selling my soul
Yeah, selling my soul
Yeah, for selling my soul
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Washington
They're selling plastic Jesus's
in the halls of the senate,
putting band-aids on open wounds
that ooze when you breathe...
Trading worthless paper, cigar deals,
'in God we trust', or not!
puffing out their ashen chests,
strutting like empty headed roosters.
And the children of the dream
bow their heads and blindly walk;
the meat grinder turns his wheel,
the spineless monkey dances!
An empire falls in sterile silence,
throw the helpless to the lions!
no food, no water, no oil, no power,
gridlock, and a broken bow!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Los Angeles
City of glam, city of crime
People are fake, you're no friend of mine
Club fights, dancing through the night
We're kids living the dream under the lights
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
City of High, city of low
Selling drugs, we're losing our souls
Walking the strip with one goal
We're gonna live our dream, no one can stop us all
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
Girls in my world
Music in my ears
Pain in my tears
Rock in my veins
Nothing in my brain
I think i'm going insane
That's all i need in Los Angeles
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
poem by by unknown author
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Everybodys Selling Something
More 4/4s in the neighborhood
Banging on the same guitar
Dreaming of living in hollywood
Puffing on a big cigar
Prima ballerina in a magazine
Call her on the telephone
Tell her that youre sending up a limousine
She say: I dont know...
I know where to go!
Now 4/4s in a different mood
Thinks hes gonna change the world
Making all the money that some others should
Guess its cause we dont deserve
Meet a lot of people in a magazine
Tell you where not to go
Tell you that Im living out a fantasy
You say: you dont know
They play me on the radio
You gotta walk before you crawl
Remember everybodys selling something
You gotta talk before you know
Remember everybodys selling something
Theres like a racket on the ball
Remember everybody wants attention
You gotta rock before you roll
Remember everybodys selling something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Now!
Now 4/4s into mother earth
Hurry up and wait t.v.
Funny how your lifell take a different turn
And how you get to dance for free
See a lot of freedom in your magazine?
Does it tell you what you want to know?
Tell you once and maybe twice and maybe three times
Thats all right!
Were coming out in stereo!!!
You gotta walk before you crawl
Remember everybodys selling something
You gotta talk before you know
Remember everybodys selling something
Theres like a racket on the ball
Remember everybody wants attention
You gotta rock before you roll
Remember everybodys selling something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Now!
Sell me something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Now!
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wont Buy It!
if you're selling salvation
for a one time donation...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling comfort
at the expense of the poor...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling protection
at the cost of individual rights...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling love
bought with diamonds and drugs...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling truth,
but your version of truth...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling today
at the final cost of tomorrow...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling freedom
fed by guns and invasions,
i wont buy it!
get it through your head...
i wont buy it!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Paint for me in light a portrait of their life’s.
Beyond rubber, beyond friction
Escapist souls run deranged,
Estranged husbands, bored house wives
Take out advertisements in local papers,
Selling their bodies, selling their souls.
Each conceal their stories. Paint for me
In light a portrait of their life’s.
poem by David Lacey
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The Day After Greed
walking the greying streets,
between the broken down
and vacant buildings....
through the alleyways..
concrete graveyards...
the hint of smoke hangs
in the air.... the stain of soot,
the taste of death... lingers....
i closed my eyes and saw
the bodies... strewn in the street
like trash blown against a fence...
eyes wild, faces contorted, ...
death, and it's brothers and sisters...
storefronts dark and ominous,
gas pumps stand alone like angry
sores, oozing into the emptiness.
great black birds fly, casting shadows
that search for tiny particles of light....
stray dogs roam in packs,
hungry for flesh!
only the sound of the great
oil rigs pumping in the distance....
an old tattered flag blown
by a cold infidel wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Racism,2011
racism is the rich man's lash
on the poor man's back!
yea, it's hard down in the projects.
it's hard down on factory row too.
and it's hard out in them
fruit and vegetable picking fields!
it's hard in the unemployment line!
cant nobody pay the rent...
and the rich man keeps laughing,
selling us out for profit,
selling our souls and our dreams!
IT HAS TO STOP!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Admiral Mike
(michael nesmith)
Peaceful music (bmi)
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
Youre selling ads you slimy toad
Dont smile at me and shake my hand
Youre killing me
Youre killing us
Because youre only
only selling ads
Youre selling ads you stupid twit
The naked lunch is on your knife
The homicides are suicides
Because youre only
only selling ads
Your copy kills
Your copy smells
Realities are crushed beneath the ads your copy sells
Go back to hell you giddy fools
There is no truth you cannot maim
He killed himself
You killed him first
Because youre only
only selling ads
Your copy kills
Your copy smells
Realities are crushed beneath the ads your copy sells
Youre selling ads you slimy toad
Dont smile at me and shake my hand
Youre killing me
Youre killing us
Because youre only
only selling ads
Because youre only only selling ads
Because youre only only selling ads
Because youre only only selling ads
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Howl (The Returning)
black eyed, hungry teeth,
souls drawn tight through a needle.
displaced, desolate,
lives packed on borrowed trucks.
padlocked doors, Wall Street roars,
dead soldiers coming home.
street corners, somebody's daughter,
selling shadows wrapped in dreams.
religious freaks, hangman's noose,
dark glasses see only white!
Christians and Muslims, russian roulette,
hollow threats and doomsday lies.
starving children, doors locked,
faces turned away.!
oil rigs pumping, dry humping,
the earth screams, 'it's rape'!
protesters marching, riot squads,
take away your rights.
prisons full, hard degrees,
anger has a price!
lovers meet, passion burns,
scars left by point of change.
wild eyed addicts, guns in hand,
taking what they need.
the righteous wake, it's too late,
their enemies their brothers.
mountains crumble, trees fall,
rivers full of sludge.
war cries, patriot lies,
grease the grimy wheel.
suffocate, dedicate,
dead bodies to the ground.
faceless rise, tired of lies,
too damned hungry to care.
common folk, dressed in black,
lift unspoken prayers!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nails in the Coffin
there's an American flag burning
in a barrel down in a broken alley.
three homeless vets warming their hands,
passing smokes, and a bottle of 'mad dog'.
paint peeling from the haunted porch
of a vacant house; trash blows
across the yard and down the street,
an old dog waits furtively at the door.
and the girl with the needle, and
painted eyes, sprawled naked in the tub...
watching roaches crawl across the floor,
fear struck dreams and the mother rush.
little boy playing in hand-me-down clothes
left out on the sidewalk in the cold.
hungry, and he just dont know to care,
wonders when his mom is coming home.
the devil and the preacher both selling soap,
the far right patriots just selling hate.
the deaf-eared mongers in Washington,
turn their heads and pour another drink!
but 'all is well! all is well! ' resounds,
the caw birds lie on the hypnotic screen.
nails in the coffin, gun in the mouth,
an American flag burning in a barrel!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sir
Sir
You are selling the Sea
One of the most important
Piece of possesion
That you have and own
Is that Sea
That Sea is full of minerals
In that Sea all the marine life lives
I am sad to see that you are selling it
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Winning Side
It's the winning side
And everybody's cheering for the winning side
And the children leave their homes to join the winning side
And when Jesus comes He'll march on with the winning side
And we've got all the right answers on the winning side
And the guiding light
Whether wrong or right
And we have no fear
No we have no fear
Waiting for the sign
We will give our lives
We will give our lives
And I feel so isolated
It's so lonely here at night
I could almost feel you near me
I imagine that you're with me
On the winning side
We don't ask too many questions on the winning side
And I've got this strange sensation on the winning side
I don't recognize the faces of the winning side
And we all live here in cages . . .
Someone cried last night
And it made a sound
With my eyes closed tight
I hear everything
I can hear your voice
When I kiss the ground
When I kiss the ground
And I'd like to know you better
And I'd like to know your name
I could really show you something
If you give me half a chance
'Cuz I'm on the winning side
(Winning side)
In the sleepless night
When the blindness comes
Washing over me
Like a giant wave
On a sandless beach
Washing over me
I am proud to be . . .
And I'd like to take you somewhere
That you've never been before
And I feel so isolated
And I feel so all alone
Here on the winning side
(And I feel so all alone
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Making money selling manure is better than losing money selling musk.
De aguado, le fandango varie O
The descendant of the Spanish Friar says:
What I am selling to you is
Water, something to drink
It is more than that
It is also something to sprinkle
Your forehead
And you become holy
Free from sin
You pay for holiness
Now walk on the aisle
Of the church
And how they look at you
A holy man
Because of my holy water
And you will have a halo
And you become radiant
Radioactive perhaps
I repeat I do not just sell water to drink
It would just be ordinary
I am selling to you purity of soul
I am selling to you a future in heaven
Come now, buy water
Sprinkle your souls
Make them holy
Sprinkle them to all
Parts of your body
Meanwhile, there will be no mass
For the coming week
I will be on honeymoon with the woman
Who got the water from the well
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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James & The Cold Gun
James, come on home.
Youve been gone too long, baby.
We cant let our hero
Die alone.
We miss you day and night.
You left town to live by the rifle.
You left us to fight,
But it just aint right to take away the light.
Remember genie from the casino?
Shes still a-waiting in that big brass bed.
The boys from your gang are knocking whisky back,
til they get out of hand and wish they were dead.
Theyre only lonely for the life that they led
With their old friend.
Ooh, james, are you selling your soul to a cold gun?
Selling your soul to a
Ooh, james, are you selling your soul to a cold gun?
Where lies your heart?
Its not there in the buckskin, baby.
Its not there in the gin
That makes you laugh long and loud.
Youre a coward, james.
Youre running away from humanity.
Youre running away from reality.
It wont be funny when they rat-a-tat-tat you down.
Remember genie from the casino?
Shes still a-waiting in that big brass bed.
The boys from your gang are knocking whisky back,
til they get out of hand and wish they were dead.
Theyre only lonely for the life that they led
With their old friend.
Ooh, james, are you selling your soul to a cold gun?
Selling your soul to a
Ooh, james, are you selling your soul to a cold gun?
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That level of trade deficit throttles real growth in our country and continues the unfortunate path of selling out America. We are not winning the global trade war, we are losing it badly.
quote by Marcy Kaptur
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Cant Dance
Hot sun beating down
Burning my feet just walking around.
Hot sun making me sweat
gators getting close, hasnt got me yet
I cant dance, I cant talk.
Only thing about me is the way I walk.
I cant dance, I cant sing
Im just standing here selling everything.
Blue jeans sitting on the beach,
Her dogs talking to me, but shes out of reach.
Shes got a body under that shirt,
But all she wants to do is rub my face in the dirt.
Cos, I cant dance, I cant talk.
Only thing about me is the way I walk.
I cant dance, I cant sing
Im just standing here selling.
Oh and checking everything is in place,
You never know whos looking on.
Young punk spilling beer on my shoes,
Fat guys talking to me trying to steal my blues.
Thick smoke, see her smiling through.
I never thought so much could happen just shooting pool.
But I cant dance, I cant talk.
The only thing about me is the way that I walk.
I cant dance, I cant sing
Im just standing here selling
Oh and checking everything is in place
You never know whos looking on
A perfect body with a perfect face - uh-huh.
No, I cant dance, I cant talk.
The only thing about me is the way I walk.
No, I cant dance, I cant sing
Im just standing here selling everything.
But I can walk.
No I cant dance.
No no no I cant dance
No I said I cant sing.
But I can walk.
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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