Related quotes: 'You've always wanted to use...

Snooker

'You've always wanted to use your whatsit as a billiard cue, '
The advert for the sex-aid said. Thinking of me and you
I've always been less concerned with giving you 'a wild time, '
Than whether you thought my poetry would do.

I've always preferred snooker anyway,
It's got more balls.

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

I Will Wait

There was a time
When all I thought that I wanted
Was someone to touch me
Like I thought everyone was touched
What did I know, what was I thinking
What did I know, what was I thinking
I remember
There was someone that I wanted
Now shes a face at the reunion of 66
What did she know, what was she thinking
And did she know that I convinced myself
I couldnt survive
Sometimes you have to wait
Youre pushing but that stone wont move
And you hesitate to give yourself away
There was a time
When all I thought that I needed
Was someone to tell me
I was making the perfect move
What did I know, what was I thinking
What did I know, what was I thinking
All I wanted was a holy exemption
I had a license to tell everyone
Where its at
What did they know, what were they thinking
And did they know that I would only hear
The things I desired
So I would wait
Im pushing but that stone wont move
And I hesitate to give myself away
And there was a time
When all I thought that I wanted
Was to live in a world
Where everyone knew what love is for
What do I know, what am I thinking
Nobody knows that the hour is getting late
So I will wait for it forever
I will wait for it
Though I know the hour is getting late
I will wait for it forever
I will wait for it
Though I know the hour is getting late

song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Whoever called snooker 'chess with balls' was rude, but right.

quote by Clive James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Poetry On The Chin

You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.

You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.

You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.

poetry
poetry
poetry poetry poetry
poetry poetry poetry
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry
poetry poetry poetry
poetry
poetry

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Wild n Free

(ian hunter)
Wild n free wild n free
Wild n free wild n free
Oh! Id never known what it was like to free
I always thought it was never true
I got a feeling I was lost in space
Did not like my face
Just wanted to be
Wild n free wild n free
Like a hurricane
Wild n free wild n free
Oh insanitys so insane
Wild n free wild n free
I aint got no got no got no name
Wild n free wild n free
Dont want no ball and chain
Damn people telling me that I was thinking bad
Had me believing they was right
All they wanted was another slob
In some stinking job
That just aint me I just want to be
W w w wild n free wild n free
Like a hurricane
Wild n free wild n free
Oh insanitys so in so insane
Wild n free wild n free
I aint got no name
Wild n free wild n free
I dont I dont want to know a ball and chain
Just then I found out I was too broke to get out
So I took to the road no one was having me
I said dont want no handouts
Cause Im making out
You aint like me I just want to be
Uh uh uh wild n free
I tried to tell you babe but you never understood
I always tried to make you see
But you believed just what your old man said
He had you chained to his head
And its on tv tv tv tv
Want to be want to be want to be
Wild n free wild n free
Like a hurricane
Wild n free wild n free
Oh insanitys so insane
Wild n free wild n free
I aint got no got no got no name
Wild n free wild n free
Dont want no ball and chain
Wild n free wild n free
Just like a ball a ball a ball of fire
Wild n free wild n free
Like it high its getting higher
Wild n free wild n free
Like some bolt from out the sky
Wild n free wild n free
Like some bullett
Say goodbye

song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Meaning of Sight

These old eye-balls only know what they have seen,
dreams at night, and in the the daytime,
daydreams, so many times,
expectations unfulfilled.

These old eye-balls only know what they have seen,
too many things within a life,
too much left, when more was needed,
and it never was delivered.

These old eye-balls only know what they have seen,
as the epic left the thought of what it means,
upon the thinking and wishing of the hoping,
upon the losses of the winners desperate scenes.

These old eye-balls end up losing light today,
but, at least they sent the messages to thoughts,
and those remain there in the mind,
where almost anyone can find,
the extra - special meaning that they brought.

poem by Barry Van Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

And You Say I Am Not The Giving Kind

I offend you?
Good.
But, please...
Do not attribute my giving,
As a charitable act.
I would have contributed that anyway,
To assist you with this acknowledgement...
If I had not offended you,
Who would have taken time to do it?
You didn't think about that did you?
I know!

But all you want to do is to accuse me of being abusive.
Self-centered, mean and cruel.
Have I ever been that selfish?
No!
When I am angry about anything,
Aren't you the first one I come to...
To express it?
Yes.
And you say I am not the giving kind.
Oh...
The thought of you thinking that appalls me!

I offend you?
Good.
At least you know I remain devoted.
Name any of your true friends who can say that?
Among your friends I bet there is more than one,
Who secretly wishes to be offended.
And here I am...giving you that AND in abundance.

And you say I am not the giving kind.
Oh...
The thought of you thinking that appalls me!
Yes.
I am 'A' with a 'P' palled ya'll.
And,
Admittedly sensitive.
I am 'A' as I can be with a 'P' and palled.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

What Does Poetry Mean To Me

What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a poem
Good poetry is a rhapsody
That makes my spirit roam

What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from an ode
Good poetry is the world to me
It is the mother lode

What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a verse
Good poetry makes my soul soar free
And lifts the darkest curse

What does poetry mean to me
A sorry sonofabitch
Good poetry grabs me by the balls
And makes my life seem rich

What does poetry mean to me
An ageing U3Aer
Good poetry takes me back to youth
To when I was a player

What does poetry mean to me
A frustrated would-be bard
Good poetry trips not off my pen
It’s far too blooming hard

poem by Ron Burn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Got You By The Balls

Hey mister businessman
Head of the company
Are you looking for a lady
One who likes to please?
Hey mister businessman
This one likes to tease
With a special service
In french quantities
But she wont sacrifice
What you want tonight
She wont come across
Unless theres money in her hand
And shes calling all the shots
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
Hey mister businessman
High society
She can play the school girl
And spank you all you please
But she wont sacrifice
What you want tonight
She wont come across
Unless theres money in her hand
She dont go overtime
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
(kiss your balls goodbye)
Hang it left, hang it right,
Got you by the balls
Got your shorts, got your curlies
Got you - by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
Yeah, yeah
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls

song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Thinking Of You

Tell me mama is your life a better change ?
And tell me mama
Would you live your life the same
Or come back and rearrange ?
Tell me mama how is freedom ?

Oh I'm thinking of you
And all the things that you wanted me to be
And I'm trying now
Oh I'm thinking of you
And all the things that you wanted me to be

Tell me mama
Are the colors deeper shades ?
And tell me mama
Are there great big brass parades ?
Does the sun shine night and day ?
Tell me mama no more sleeping
Tell me mama no more weeping

I'm thinking of you
And all the things that you wanted me to be
And I'm trying now

Oh I'm thinking of you
And all the things that you wanted me to be
And I'm trying now

Oh I'm thinking of you
And all the things that you wanted me to be yeah

Hey mama

song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from 5
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

An act of poetry

Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry

A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art

Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation

Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:

The pen be our salvation.

poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Retrieved Poetry

Poetry is dead,
Some would say.
But the inspiration that befell the poet,
But the gods that cursed the poet
Would never allow him grow weary.
It keeps pouring out like morning dew
From sundown to cock crow.
Poetry is dead,
          Some would say.
Those would get paid
That wishes it out of this world.
Judgement day, the pay day, even today
,
Memories linger of what the gods inspired.
Only poetry has survived a worldwide flood.
Poetry is dead,
          Some have said.
          But the inspiration keeps coming,
          But the memory keeps living.
          Poetry lives on even when the world is dead;
          It dies only if it is not poetry
          And there is only a good few poetry.
Poetry is dead,
          Some have said.
          Until we start seeing poetry as poetry
          And nothing more, until that day,
          Until we start thinking he is inspired,
          Until we stop thinking for the poet;
          He is possessed he is innocent.
Poetry is dead,
          So goes the argument.
          Even as we cut from the same tree,
          Even as we speak same universal language,
          You cannot cut deep if your axe's blunt.
          We can never speak from same mouth.
          You can only say your own thought.
Poetry is dead,
          So goes the argument,
          If poetry is dead killed by death,
          If poetry is dead swallowed by death,
          The corpse should be in our front.
          We should know how to bury it.
          We should dig not cover it with dust.
Poetry is dead,
          If poetry is really dead,
          There is cause to weep bitterly,
          There is cause to think deeply
          For the world has been stripped naked.
          For poetry is great, ageless, timeless, bottomless
          At the burial we must remain emotionless.

poem by Chime Justice Ndubuisi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Poet's return

So I'm back again, never thinking I'd pick back up this pen, thinking about were my life has taken me, and where will it go next. Im coming to the brink where my life is about to change forever, deciding which path is right, the one that I take or another one that I make. But yet I'm back, back with the same old outlets, back to the same old problems; a tale as old as time itself with the worries of a decade...so im back. I never thought I'd write another poem, but poetry is all around us, its in every breath you take, in every beat your heart makes, in the fluid from your veins from even the fantasies in your brain, POETRY is everywhere. The truth of the matter is poetry, just like a beat of rhyme, is everywhere. Most know it, many adore it, few idolize it, but we all show it. Because one way or another were all are going to use it, and when that day comes....oh such a beautiful vision that our minds well never lose it.

poem by Augustus Gatlin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Sweetheart love other girl

My sweetheart love other girl*
My sweetheart a little by little stopped loving me*
My sweetheart a day by day forgot me*
My sweetheart time for the sake of time left my heart*

If you wanted to kiss the other girl? please thought about me*

If you wanted to embrace the other girl? please thought about me*

If you wanted to kiss lip with the other girl? please thought about me*

If you wanted sleep with the other girl? please thought about me*

If you wanted dinner with the other girl? please thought about me*

If you wanted to walk with the other girl? please thought about me*

If you wanted to hide with the other girl? please thought about me*

Now I'know what the love*

poem by Dwi utami
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Change Of Time!

A change of time changes everything in life!
Glorious poetry turned into prose for use earlier;
Stories, novels and articles ruled prominent;
With the coming of computer poetry resurrected!

Now everybody enjoys indulging in poetry for fun;
Articles, stories and novels are superseded by poetry!
Many poetry websites entertain new poets daily;
Many enjoy poetry reading and writing at anytime!

Poetry has become cheap product for all to use;
Nobody thought that such a thing could happen!
Nobody buys poetry books but novels and magazines;
Is poetry a use and throw material only in market now?

The things that cannot be expressed in stories, novels
Are done in poetry to satisfy heart, thought and spirit!

poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

When Then They Had It

It isn't what it was or had been to them.
They wanted it to radiate even when ignored.
Even when left unpolished they expected it to shine.
Leaving it behind to rot and be forgotten.
But what it wasn't is wanted back by them, again.
With every part of that which was delusioned,
Intact.

Even what had been disdained with a wish to rid.
Is now romanticized as reminisced,
With a missing of it.
And this gets more unbearable.
Since whoever has it now seems thrilled.
And a knowing of this has increased a jealousy.
A heating up of an envy begins.

It isn't what it was or had been to them then!
But what it wasn't is wanted back.
With a protest and threatened attacks.
Every bit of that which was delusioned,
Intact as if it sparkled like a gem all now seek.

Gone and yet remembered,
Not for the bitter but the sweet.
Or the possibility of it being there,
Since no one bothered to care.
And not for the tastelessness no one did eat.
Or preferred to select.
It was thought to be a substitute!
And not viewed as the best one then could get.
As rumored.

It is wanted for what it could have been to them.
And what it could have been then,
Was given away to become desired and craved...
By others seen with it to admire it for what it is!
With a giving to it an appreciation that stays.

And the sight of this sickens the ones who want it back,
To inspect it closer to see what it was they missed...
With a neglecting of it as it was when then they had it,
Close enough to reject the effect of it that did not then impress.
When then they had it.
But...
Now demand it back.
To delude?
Who knows.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Big Balls

Im ever upper class high society
Gods gift to ballroom notoriety
I always fill my ballroom
The event is never small
The social pages say Ive got
The biggest balls of all
Chorus:
Ive got big balls
Ive got big balls
And theyre such big balls
Dirty big balls
And hes got big balls
And shes got big balls
But weve got the biggest balls of them all
And my balls are always bouncing
My ballroom always full
And everybody cums and cums again
If your name is on the guest list
No one can take you higher
Everybody says Ive got
Great balls of fire
Chorus
Some balls are held for charity
And some for fancy dress
But when theyre held for pleasure
Theyre the balls that I like best
My balls are always bouncing
To the left and to the right
Its my belief that my big balls
Should be held every night
Chorus
And Im just itching to tell you about them
Oh we had such wonderful fun
Seafood cocktail, crabs, crayfish...
Ball sucker

song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

There Is A Time For Poetry

THERE IS A TIME FOR POETRY

There is a time for Poetry
When Life cries out desperately for Help-
Or when Love overwhelms
Or Fear comes.

Spring is a time for Poetry
And Autumn also
Winter has its Poetry
And Summer too.

There is a time for Poetry
Which is any time the human heart needs
A deep time
A sad time
A Lonely time.
Any time-

A time for Poetry- Now.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Journalism is concerned with events, poetry with feelings. Journalism is concerned with the look of the world, poetry with the feel of the world.

quote by Archibald MacLeish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I Know There Are Other Kinds Of Poetry

I know there are other kinds of Poetry-
I know for many a confession cannot be a poem-
But for me my confession is my poem
And my writing what I most intensely think and feel
And need to say-

It may not be Poetry for you
And it may not speak to you at all,
I don't want you to waste your time
With what is meaningless for you-

But if the poetry of Confession
And mine in particular
Can be poetry for you,
Thank you for giving my lines
Some time and attention.