The discreet collector
Down south there is a curio-shop
Unknown to many men;
Thereat do I intend to stop
When I am south again;
The narrow street through which to go--
Aha! I know it well!
And may be you would like to know--
But no--I will not tell!
'T is there to find the loveliest plates
(The bluest of the blue!)
At such surprisingly low rates
You'd not believe it true!
And there is one Napoleon vase
Of dainty Sèvres to sell--
I'm sure you'd like to know that place--
But no--I will not tell!
Then, too, I know another shop
Has old, old beds for sale,
With lovely testers up on top
Carved in ornate detail;
And there are sideboards rich and rare,
With fronts that proudly swell--
Oh, there are bargains waiting there,
But where I will not tell!
And hark! I know a bottle-man
Smiling and debonair,
And he has promised me I can
Choose of his precious ware!
In age and shape and color, too,
His dainty goods excel--
Aha, my friends, if you but knew--
But no! I will not tell!
A thousand other shops I know
Where bargains can be got--
Where other folk would like to go
Who have what I have not.
I let them hunt; I hold my mouth--
Yes, though I know full well
Where lie the treasures of the south,
I'm not a going to tell!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
You Are Too Smart For Me
You are too smart for me
Lady
When you shop
Because when you shop you shop for the bargains
And
I can see that you love bargains
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shop, she shops!
Once she constantly smiled
Bought cloths and jewelry that gave her style
Shop, shop, shop
She shopped till she dropped
Shop, shop, shop
She just could not seem to stop
Her credit was on top
Her spending way rocket up
She paid with cash or credit card
This Lady was absolutely shopping mad
Shoping malls!
Markets stalls!
Shoes, clothing, and handbags she bought all year long
Spend, spend and spend daily was her beloved song
Shop, shop, shop
She now shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
This lady has now put a stop
Today is different shopping expedition
This time spending with supervision
No more that crazy spending addiction
Her credit card is cut
Her goods seized, the whole lot
Today she spends, her pockets hurt!
She has become street wise
Haggling with each price
She has become precise
About what she needs and not what is nice
Shop, shop, shop
She shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
Her spending has taken a big drop!
This lady has now put a stop to shop!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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God Save The South
It was a red hot night night in mobile
Sweat glistened on the reverends chin
His mohair suit was shinin
He told us all about sin
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
Across the street in the pool hall
Bubba put the eight ball down
Its a high five celebration
They passed the jack around
Its wall to wall in wall street
Were livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Shut your mouth
Some long haired boys with guitars
Playin behind the chicken wire
Theyre goin up to new york city
Gonna sing about atlantas fire
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
So,yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Avenue Of Love
(9/24/12)
Love is an avenue of which to explore
Go to any shop and open the door
Shops for every feeling known to man
Walk in to understand.
Shops for pain, sorrow, bitterness and heartbreak
Shop around - it's not to late.
Shops for joy, happiness, contentment, devotion
Shops for every emotion.
Stop in - look around - feel every emotion
That can be found.
Shop around ahead of time
To find out what awaits down the line.
But do not be fearful of pains
That may await
Take the chance - don't hesitate.
You can search every shop that's on this street
But there is nothing that can compete
To the love that you have deep inside
A love so beautiful that you can not hide
All these shops are in your soul
Open the doors and life unfolds.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song of the Republic
Sons of the South, awake! arise!
Sons of the South, and do.
Banish from under your bonny skies
Those old-world errors and wrongs and lies.
Making a hell in a Paradise
That belongs to your sons and you.
Sons of the South, make choice between
(Sons of the South, choose true),
The Land of Morn and the Land of E'en,
The Old Dead Tree and the Young Tree Green,
The Land that belongs to the lord and the Queen,
And the Land that belongs to you.
Sons of the South, your time will come –
Sons of the South, 'tis near –
The "Signs of the Times", in their language dumb,
Fortell it, and ominous whispers hum
Like sullen sounds of a distant drum,
In the ominous atmosphere.
Sons of the South, aroused at last!
Sons of the South are few!
But your ranks grow longer and deeper fast,
And ye shall swell to an army vast,
And free from the wrongs of the North and Past
The land that belongs to you.
poem by Henry Lawson
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I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
the home of the slaves
and the land of no freedom
I'm gonna take the south out of South Africa
where George Wallace stood
on the University steps
and said no blacks
no blacks shall enter here
except over my dead
and crippled body
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
where separate but equal means
that blacks lived in the homelands
and not in their homes
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
where Jim Crow laws
have tried to change their colors
but it's still the same old shackles
call Apartheid
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
where young people are detained
...without trials
...without lawyers
...without rights
but never
... without hope
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
poem by Oscar Mireles
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South Africa Is Also My Country
From my birth South Africa is my own country
and my people can flee to an island
but my own culture and language stays holy
although this place is not safe,
I still trust on a much higher hand,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
From my birth South Africa is my own country
even if the struggling government gives me resistance,
do oppress me with unfair laws,
even if nothing can stop the disintegration,
even if I am not safe against the onslaught,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
From my birth South Africa is my own country,
even if some act with effrontery against my people
I come from a noble heritage,
I am proud on my Afrikaner lineage,
even if people and buildings are set alight,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
From my birth South Africa is my own country
with no other place I have such a deep bond
and even if here I will never have any job,
I believe in God and a Christian church,
God himself still keeps my ways intact,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Heading South
Orbison/dees
I want to talk to folks back home again, to walk along a lonely country lane
To spend some time with that woman of mine, heading south, heading south
Things look bright and I feel alright yeah Im heading south
Heading south to see the sun go down on camp fire light,to join the singing at night
Heading south to cotton rows and honeysuckle bloom
Under the cumberland moon heading south, heading south
Give me room to travel on my way to a place where dreams all fade away
Where the river flows and tobacco grows heading south heading south
Cause the sun is hot and people love a lot yeah Im heading south
Heading south to see the sun go down on camp fire light, to join the singing at night
Heading south to cotton rows and honeysuckle bloom under the cumberland moon
Heading south, heading south
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song Of The South
Written by bob mcdill
Chorus
Song, song of the south.
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.
Gone, gone with the wind.
There aint nobody looking back again.
Cotton on the roadside, cotton in the ditch.
We all picked the cotton but we never got rich.
Daddy was a veteran, a southern democrat.
They oughta get a rich man to vote like that.
Sing it...
Chorus
Well somebody told us wall street fell
But we were so poor that we couldnt tell.
Cotton was short and the weeds were tall
But mr. roosevelts a gonna save us all.
Well momma got sick and daddy got down.
The county got the farm and they moved to town.
Pappa got a job with the tva
He bought a washing machine and then a chevrolet.
Sing it...
Chorus
Play it...
Sing it...
Chorus
Song, song of the south...
Gone, gone with the wind...
Song, song of the south.
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.
Song, song of the south.
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.
Sing it...
Chorus 2x
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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John Cornstalk
Jack Cornstalk lives in the Southern Land—
What says Cornstalk John?
Jack Cornstalk says in a loud firm voice:
“Land of the South, lead on.”
CHORUS:
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Land of the South, lead on!
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Lead on, Land of the South!
John Bull lays claim to the Southern Land.
Jack, is the South Land thine?
John Cornstalk cries in a loud, firm voice:
“The Land of the South is mine!”
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Land of the South, lead on!
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Lead on, Land of the South!
“By the long, long years my father toiled
In the pioneering band;
By the hardships of those early days,
I claim the Southern Land!”
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Land of the South, lead on!
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Lead on, Land of the South!
But where shall the Land of the South lead to?
Where lead the nation’s van?
Jack Cornstalk cries from his strong young heart:
“To the Dynasty of Man.”
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Land of the South, lead on!
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Lead on, Land of the South!
poem by Henry Lawson
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There was an Old Man of the South,
Who had an immederate mouth;
But in swallowing a dish,
That was quite full of fish,
He was choked, that Old Man of the South.
quote by by Edward Lear
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The Quality Of God
In torn dress a poor boy,
Was standing near a shop,
Greeding eyes of this boy,
Bare footed, seeking joy in the shop.
The shop was full of rich people,
There was selling garments and shoes,
Toys too, something in the shape of apple,
People were in fine dress and shoes.
Nobody paid heed at this boy,
And his eyes were tearful,
All were busy in buying toys,
But boy was standing thoughtful.
A lady came there who had bright eyes,
Accompanied the boy and entered the shop,
Bought for him garments, shoes and toys,
Buying all they left the shop.
Lady put her hand on his head,
'Go now' said with love,
Boy smiled and turned up his head,
' Are you God? ' asked with love.
She replied with smiling face,
'I'm His slave not God.'
Answered the boy with confidence,
'I knew that you must belong to God.'
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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Surprise in Japan - Shinjuku's sex toy shop
shinjuku sex shop
it's more interesting to buy
one staffer quips
The sex shops paraded rubbery sex toys all over. It was my first visit to a sex shop and was quite thrilled by the openness Japanese had towards such merchandise. The staffer was a woman. Shinjuku Kabukicho is one large red light area so such shops are found in the area. Perhaps she knew I am not a Japanese and tried to put a light joke on my visit. She knew it would be hard to sell me an item. But that was a surprise, a Japanese woman trying to sell something quite 'offensive' to a man and being quite cheeky about it.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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In New Orleans
'Twas in the Crescent City not long ago befell
The tear-compelling incident I now propose to tell;
So come, my sweet collector friends, and listen while I sing
Unto your delectation this brief, pathetic thing-
No lyric pitched in vaunting key, but just a requiem
Of blowing twenty dollars in by nine o'clock a.m.
Let critic folk the poet's use of vulgar slang upbraid,
But, when I'm speaking by the card, I call a spade a spade;
And I, who have been touched of that same mania, myself,
Am well aware that, when it comes to parting with his pelf,
The curio collector is so blindly lost in sin
That he doesn't spend his money-he simply blows it in!
In Royal street (near Conti) there's a lovely curio-shop,
And there, one balmy, fateful morn, it was my chance to stop;
To stop was hesitation-in a moment I was lost-
That
kind of hesitation does not hesitate at cost!
I spied a pewter tankard there, and, my! it was a gem-
And the clock in old St. Louis told the hour of eight a.m.!
Three quaint Bohemian bottles, too, of yellow and of green,
Cut in archaic fashion that I ne'er before had seen;
A lovely, hideous platter wreathed about with pink and rose,
With its curious depression into which the gravy flows;
Two dainty silver salts-oh, there was no resisting
them
-
And I'd blown in twenty dollars by nine o'clock a. m.
With twenty dollars, one who is a prudent man, indeed,
Can buy the wealth of useful things his wife and children need;
Shoes, stockings, knickerbockers, gloves, bibs, nursing-bottles, caps,
A gown-
the
gown for which his spouse too long has pined, perhaps!
These and ten thousand other spectres harrow and condemn
The man who's blown in twenty by nine o'clock a.m.
Oh, mean advantage conscience takes (and one that I abhor!)
In asking one this question: 'What
did
you buy it for?'
Why doesn't conscience ply its blessed trade
before
the act,
Before
one's cussedness becomes a bald, accomplished fact-
Before
one's fallen victim to the Tempter's stratagem
And blown in twenty dollars by nine o'clock a.m.?
Ah me! now that the deed is done, how penitent I am!
I
was
a roaring lion-behold a bleating lamb!
I've packed and shipped those precious things to that more precious wife
Who shares with our sweet babes the strange vicissitudes of life,
While he who, in his folly, gave up his store of wealth
Is far away, and means to keep his distance-for his health!
poem by Eugene Field
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Down South Jukin'
(ed king - ronnie vanzant)
Well, billy joe told me ,well everything's lookin' fine
He got the place all secure, got the icebox full of wine
He said, now hurry on all and don't be late
I got three lovely ladies who just won't wait
We'll do some down south jukin', lookin' for some peace of mind
Now put your sunday pants, lets get out on the road
We've been workin' all week and i think its time we let go
We got three fine mamas sitting all alone
Gonna sip our wine, gonna get it on
And do some down south jukin, lookin' for some peace of mind
Well, come monday morning we'll be headed out to the the field
We'll be doin' everything for papa and ol' uncle bill
Well, come friday night we'll be headed to town
Tryin' to pick up any woman hanging around
And do some down south jukin', lookin' for some peace of mind
And do some down south jukin', lookin' for some peace of mind
And do some down south jukin', lookin' for a peace of mind
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She'll Drive The Big Car
She waited by the moon
She was sick with fear and cold
She felt too old for all of this
Of course she never showed
She lugged her suitcase to the bus
Melted home through the snow
North along riverside
She slips beneath the sheets
A husbands quiet devoted wife
But strangers sad and nervous
By the dawns early light
Loves lies like a dead cloud
On a shabby, yellow lawn
Up on riverside
She'll drive the big car
He'll sit behind
She'll keep an eye on Jessica
South along the Hudson
She'll turn the radio high
Find a station playing sad, sad soul
Just a little bit louder now
South along the Hudson yea
Just a little bit faster now
Just a little bit louder now
Just a little bit angry now
South along the Hudson, yea
And she'll drive the big car
And talk herself insane
Just a little bit louder now
Just a little bit angry now
Way back when Millennium
Meant racing to the light
He promised her a dream-life
He'd take her back to street-life
Away from violent water
With its Cormorants and leaves
Up on riverside
She'll drive the big car
But he'll sit behind
Bursting her bubbles of Ludlow and Grand
South along the Hudson
She'll turn the radio way up high
Find a station playing sad, sad soul
Just a little bit louder now
South along the Hudson
Just a little bit faster now
Just a little bit louder now
Just a little bit angry now
South along the Hudson, yea
Just a little bit faster now
Just a little bit louder now
Just a little bit angry now
South along the Hudson, yea
She'll drive the big car
He'll sit behind
She'll keep an eye on Jessica
Just a little bit faster now
Just a little bit faster now
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bargains Galore!
The erudite auctioneer, with a voice loud and clear,
Is selling off bizarre stuff, some of it is quite duff,
Things that other folk hate, which is then called top rate,
Yes, people will buy, but goodness knows why!
His gavel descends, then somebody spends.
They produce ready cash, for these goods we call 'trash'.
There are bargains galore, to go out through the door,
Though auctions require fees, which brings some to their knees.
All things can be viewed, with the right attitude,
By a true connoisseur, who is no amateur,
And we did make the grade, when we sold the 'teasmade',
Yep! the saleroom's real great, if you investigate.
Take some effects you don't like, perhaps the Van Dyke,
It should raise a high price, it's pretty fine merchandise.
With the bidding intense, you are kept in suspense,
'Til the very last bid, when you make a few quid.
Commission is paid, so how much have you made,
A reasonable pile, so the sale was worthwhile.
We'll find more to bring, 'French Lalique' or some 'Ming'.
As one never can tell, what treasures will sell.
Victorian, Edwardian, a harp or accordion,
Art Nouveau or Deco, a clock, TV or radio.
Anything and everything, 'Lots' tied up with string,
There's money here to accrue, want a stuffed cockatoo?
poem by Ernestine Northover
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South Park Theme
I'm going down to south park, gonna have myself a time.
Friendly faces everywhere, humble folks without temptation.
Going down to south park, gonna leave my woes behind.
Ample parking day or night, people shouting "howdy neighbor!"
Heading on out to south park, gonna see if i can't unwind.
I like girls with big vaginas, i like girls with big fat titties.
So come on down to south park and meet some friends of mine.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Many of the master chefs in the South, both the upper South as well as the deep South, were blacks and many of those people came here to Washington, D.C., and opened up establishments. Very, very few of them have survived. But they certainly were very prominent.
The Street Only Knew Your Name
Your street, rich street or poor
You should always be sure of your street
There's a place in your heart,
When you know from the start
And you can't be complete without a street
Keep movin' on, just like a train
Sometimes you gotta look back to the street again
Would you prefer all those castles in spain
Or a view of the street from your window pane
When you were young, so young
So very very young
When you were young, so young
So very very young
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name, oh your precious name, precious name
There was walter and joy, kate and roy
All hung around the corner lamplight
Get together sing some songs
Like boppin' the blues - you make me feel alright
That was long before fortune and fame
No such thing as a star when you've played that game
Everyone knew who everyone was
There was no preference in the street no, no
When you were young, so young
So very very young
When you were young, so young
So very very young
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name, oh your precious name
And you walked around in the heart of town
Listening for that sound
And you walk around in the heart of town
Listening for that sound
Blue suede shoes, it was the blue suede shoes
When you were young, so young
So very very young
When you were young, so young
So very very young
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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