Gestapo
You had life so easy...
You thought you were the chips and cheese.
And you mocked,
Those who were not!
You thought it a breeze,
To do just what you pleased.
And you shopped...
'Til you dropped.
You stole what you had,
And you thought it would never stop.
When you thought your life was threatened...
You would call the cops.
Now that things have turned around...
A mess is all you've got,
To show.
And you know...
Your back's broke.
A gestapo is on the march.
Soon to knock on your door...
With a broom and mop.
To clean up your slop!
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
And the ones who sit on stoops...
Will be grouped,
And pooped from pushing.
'Lock step! Mops! Push! '
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
You had life so easy...
You thought you were the chips and cheese.
And you mocked,
Those who were not!
But...
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
'Lock step! Mops! Push! '
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
And the ones who sit on stoops...
Will be grouped!
And pooped,
From pushing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Slop Croppers
Slop croppers get your mops.
And wipe those sobs you've dropped,
Nonstop.
There's so many reasons,
Your decay made you drink a lot!
To numb your broken heart!
Hip hoppers with those beats you bop.
It was hot when you locked into it.
That got everybody to rock!
Obama is no llama.
Nor sheep is he seeking to fleece.
This president shows true evidence,
He's come to shake up the people...
From a deep deep sleep.
And a clean sweep...
A duty done will leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Push Push and Pop It
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Leaving specs and pieces left,
To kick and knock your 'ouch' about!
To needle and pick!
You gotta stop it.
To needle and pick!
You gotta stop it.
To needle and pick!
You gotta stop it.
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin'
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Leaving specs and pieces left,
To kick and knock your 'ouch' about!
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Leaving specs and pieces left,
To kick and knock your 'ouch' about!
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin'
You can refuse to feel remorse or guilt.
And let forgiveness handle it!
No need to flip your lid or top.
Learn to love yourself a lot.
If this is not done...
How can you expect others to start.
You don't have to play a part...
Of that panic brewing in your heart!
Denying it is there.
Just...
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin'
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin
Push push and pop it!
Don't even try to stop it.
Just...
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin'
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin
Push push and pop it!
Don't even try to stop it.
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Push push and pop it!
Push push and pop it!
Push push and pop it!
Push push and pop it!
Inspired and Dedicated:
To all my Hip-Hop lovers and friends,
Of the mooovement!
Peace Up!
L
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Appetizers Laced
Dozing!
After a feast that fattened their bodies,
And dulling their minds.
They all awakened to find...
Someone demanding those times,
Would be left behind them now.
Struggling to their feet...
Some dazed,
Others amazed those days
Had actually gone.
With their cupboards depleted.
And brooms and mops left,
For them to use to sweep and clean.
As someone they never respected...
and certainly did not expect.
Showed up upon the scene.
Loudly proclaiming,
What from them is expected!
And the days ahead will be long and lean.
Jaws dropped in shock!
To learn they were asked to serve.
Or discover themselves deserted.
Since those who had fed them,
And watched them sleep...
Were treating them with doses,
Of appetizers laced with deceit and treason.
While slipping through exits.
Hoping to leave unnoticed...
Without making a sound or peep!
'The thieves have stolen the cheese.
The Provolone, Swiss and American
Lox and Bagels too! '
Announced the leader,
Of the new maintenance crew.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Need To Boot That Attitude You've Got
You need,
To dropp your griping down a notch.
You need,
To stop your grouching done a lot.
You need,
To lower that heat and stop...
A rotting rooted you need to block.
You need,
To boot that attitude you've got.
You need,
To find a broom or use a mop...
To clean up all the mess you've dropped.
And prevent the others from sliding in slop.
You need,
To dropp your griping down a notch.
You need,
To stop your grouching done a lot.
You need,
To lower that heat and stop...
A rotting rooted you need to block.
You need,
To boot that attitude you've got.
And find a broom quick or use a mop.
To prevent a needless slip in slop.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stuck In Doubtful Visions
Jobs coming and created...
Will instill an appreciation,
For the infrastructure...
Long depreciated.
And disciplined these millions will be.
Trained to respect...
The 'We Can' vision,
President Obama expects.
A fresh horizon is what's next!
Changes to all aspects,
Of a way of life many neglected.
Come!
And everyone,
Will do their part...
With a deeper understanding.
Felt in their minds and hearts.
A new dawn will find many,
Clinging on...
To their mops and brooms,
To make room for it when it appears.
Making it clear to those,
Stuck in doubtful visions...
As they sweep in a uniformed awareness.
Executed like nothing known before!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slop They Dropped
Move from a tainting of a game maintained,
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
With a mopping up slop that's enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Will be theirs nonstop.
To mop up slop that's enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Will be theirs nonstop.
Move from a tainting of a game maintained,
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
With a mopping up slop that's enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Will be theirs nonstop.
Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
With a hoping that in time they will be erased.
And unhappiness appearing on faces now chased.
Those who mopped up slop they enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
Those who mopped up slop they enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
Those who mopped up slop they enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
With a hoping that in time they will be erased.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
It's too late to move from a tainting game,
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
'Cause the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
It's too late to move from a tainting game
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
'Cause the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
Tainting people's names to sustain a gain,
Has other people mopping up the slop they dropped.
Tainting people's names to sustain a gain,
Has other people mopping up the slop they dropped.
Tainting people's names to sustain a gain,
Has other people mopping up the slop they dropped.
Other people now mopping up a slop.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
But there's no hope in time they will be erased.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
But there's no hope in time they will be erased.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Former Lee Warmer
In an upstairs room, under lock and key
It's my brother, Former Lee
All the mops and brooms keep him company
Misconceived of the family
Former Lee Warmer pulls up the covers to hide in his wrinkled bed
No dreams go in, no dreams go out of the hole in his wrinkled head
Former Lee Warmer
When I hear him play in his twisted key
That's the way he calls to me
On a silver tray, I keep the master key
In every way, he depends on me
Former Lee Warmer, an old smoking jacket - holes in his satin sleeves
Candle lit puddles, arthritic fingers, yellow stained ivory keys
In an upstairs room under lock and key
It's my brother, Former Lee
And after all these years, I've never heard him speak
I wonder what he thinks of me
Former Lee Warmer peeks out the window
When he feels really brave
Former Lee Warmer waves at his father
Out in the family grave
He's flesh and blood to me
I love him brotherly
But, I don't want to be Former Lee
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
And leaves the shreds behind;
Oh, housewife in the evening west,
Come back, and dust the pond!
You dropped a purple ravelling in,
You dropped an amber thread;
And now you've littered all the East
With duds of emerald!
And still she plies her spotted brooms,
And still the aprons fly,
Till brooms fade softly into stars --
And then I come away.
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Mental Memoirs Kept
There is going to be a clean sweep.
A complete overhaul...
Of present thinking,
By those who rode...
On a merry-go-round enjoyed.
But now has been stalled.
For certain conditions,
To be employed!
A total restructuring,
Of a thought process.
Coming soon to a mind near you.
And this,
All can expect!
Gone are the days,
Are those having their way.
With assumptions done...
Including less discipline,
To have a life full of fun!
A consciousness that will insist,
Everyone snaps awake.
And overnight this will seem,
To have taken place.
Attitudes about who will do what...
Will have few people,
Sitting on their butts!
With no 'buts' or 'ifs'...
Used for excuses to resist!
A total restructuring,
Of a thought process.
Coming soon to a mind near you.
And this,
All can expect!
No one will be asked to choose,
Whether or not they will participate.
With a hesitation to confuse.
What will be delivered,
No one can refuse.
No offer will be made...
To those in moods wishing to debate!
Those days are gone!
Only mental memoirs kept...
In private reminiscing.
During lunch breaks!
And assignments completed...
When one has finished,
Using their brooms, mops or rakes!
A conformity will be restored.
Not to be ignored.
Or out done.
By those holding onto pretensions.
To impress someone.
Who might care who they knew.
Or where they vacationed,
Under the Sun.
To bask and enhance healthy tans.
A consciousness that insists,
Everyone snaps awake.
And this will traumatize,
To bring many heartbreak!
Attitudes about who will do what...
Will have few people,
Sitting on their butts!
With noses turned up!
With no 'buts' or 'ifs'...
Used for excuses to resist!
A total restructuring,
Of a thought process.
Coming soon to a mind near you.
And this,
All can expect!
You can bet on that,
To happen next!
For all to socialize...
With sweat pouring down,
Their faces and necks!
'Hey you...
Yes you!
The 'intellectual'!
After you're through writing.
Or whatever it is you do.
Get back to your chores.
I don't want to have to repeat that...
Like I did before.'
With no 'buts' or 'ifs'...
Used for excuses to resist!
You can expect this...
To arrive at your door!
Persisting with wishes...
Will not be done anymore.
*Note of definition for 'memoir' as used in this context:
'...the record of the proceedings,
of a learned society...'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Clean
Eat clean,
Live clean,
Sleep clean,
dress clean,
Walk clean,
Learn clean,
Play clean,
Think clean,
dance clean,
Talk clean,
Sing clean,
work clean,
Because the world around you is watching what you do;
You are the only one on this earth,
So live and let us live too.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You March On
You, unknown traveller of untreaded path
march on, march on, march on
will reach your destination
one day
though far off
march on, march on, march on.
Look back, never, even by mistake
forget, never, the hardships you bore
guide, will be your past deeds of life,
full of pangs on the bed of stake
What holds destiny?
Not to worry?
............Just march on, march on, march on.
Adversities make you a fast learner
Desires are snakes, so be a shirker
search the deep sea to find a pearl
get to the shore, while facing the whirl
Think never to be feeble & meek
deliver everyone from the misdeeds
while truth you seek
clear all hurdles regaining your strength
you will reach the destination
march on...march on....march on.
Carve out your name on the horizon
as your stars are on the ascendant
work towards the goal night and day
be illuminated in such a way
sluggish should appear the milky way
You, unknown traveller of untreaded path
march on, march on, march on
will reach your destination
one day
though far off
march on, march on, march on.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Eternity Rain
Let this rain wash me
Let it wash my virtual sins
Clean my sorrow from the sins of my fathers
Clean my self form this dirt call life
From the false tells of creation
And clean my mind from the empty words of priest
From the dirty political speech
Let this holy rain clean my sorrow form the sin of love
Sin of being the truthful in this life
I want to clean my mind from the thought control
Clean my head form my mum fairy lies
It need the eternity to clean out my soul and my life from this life dirt
To be clean again i need eternity rain
poem by Aryabod Siharyvani
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A Transliteration
one girl three cops
this is where the censure mops
jedna cura tri pandura
odje mora doc cenzura
rambo amadeus
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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March
Were I young again
and the month of March
were upon me
I'd skip down the road,
do a march to March,
sing a tune to March
dance a dance to March,
risk a prance to March,
strut and grind and do
a break dance to March.
Hop, skip and jump to March,
just like a the girl I used to be,
once upon a time in March,
when my cheeks had high colour
and my hopes were high.
poem by Ruth Walters
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I Know
Water thin
The wall is in
Shes chlorine clean and portion fed
Feed the dog
Slop the hog
Shine the baptist and debark the log
Its all right, I know
Youre the only one who can
Show us at all
Get it done
Circulate
What I hear, fear motivates
So intense
So sensitive
In your head where fashion lives
Its all right, I know
Youre the only one who can
Show us at all
Its ok, I know
Youre mean and hard and bored
Its always something
song performed by by Helmet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Maid-servants
I hear the noise of washing clothes on stone;
The sun is scorching fiercely overhead;
A lady works for wages all alone;
She looks so famished, weathered, almost dead!
I hear the clatter-noise of pots and pans;
A woman washes vessels piled like mound;
She sweeps and mops the floor as if by dance!
And then, her broom begins to clean the ground.
I hear the noise of food being prepared;
A tiny kitchen smokes throughout the day;
A half-clad woman walks with nails unpared;
Her hair unkempt, she draws a meagre pay.
In society, we need sure hierarchy;
Nevertheless, there must be sympathy!
poem by John Celes
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Ides of March
The Ides of March come.
Seven days preceding the 15th day
Of every other month.
What significance did the Romans give this?
And 'why' is the 13th of October their 'ides'?
Outside of poetic expression,
What value does 'ides' have?
And whose ides come to visit you and when?
Will they be in March, May, or July?
And then...
Will you notice them?
My mother use to say,
When I was a child and extremely naïve...
'The Ides of March will soon be upon you.'
I thought she meant 'eyes'!
Needless to say,
I was glad when March came and went away!
Not realizing then...
Every other month from March also had 'ides'.
I still want to know,
What importance do these 'ides' have and why?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From the Top to the Bottom
From the top to the bottom,
There were those who chose to stop...
Actions they believe were made,
By those who went against the grade.
No matter if that grade,
Had been all about 'shade'.
From the top to the bottom,
There were those who were just rotten.
With nothing on their minds,
But themselves all the time.
And believing they had power...
To stop tick tocking from a hanging clock.
From the top to the bottom,
There were gobblers who loved robbing...
Anything they thought had meaning,
And to smear it with their scheming.
With no scruples in their 'noggin'.
And sipping on mischief like it was eggnog.
From the top to the bottom,
There were crooks and there were snobs...
With their noses in the air!
But no empathy is shown to come,
From anywhere.
Now find their lives blocked,
And going no where.
From the top to the bottom,
They are slipping off roofs...
Into muddy ruts.
With no boots or shoes,
And on their butts out of luck...
Singing the blues!
From the top to the bottom,
Slickers sliding in slop!
From the top to the bottom,
And it's done nonstop!
From the top to the bottom,
Slickers sliding in slop!
From the top to the bottom,
And it's done nonstop!
From the top to the bottom,
Now the bottom's got 'em shocked!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You come before me this morning with clean hands and clean collars. I want you to have clean tongues, clean manners, clean morals and clean characters.
quote by John Burns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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